Natural Selection
by Ineversleep
Summary: Victor Creed is tired. Tired of his life, tired of who he is and tired of being alone. Can some chance encounters set him on a new path? Can who he is and who he has the potential to be meet somewhere in the middle?
1. Chapter 1

Rating: Mature for violence, language and eventual sexual content.

Synopsis: Victor Creed is tired. Tired of his life, tired of who he is and tired of being alone. Can some chance encounters set him on a new path? Can who he is and who he has the potential to be meet somewhere in the middle? Not a Mary-Sue and not completely OOC either. This is the Wolverine Origins version of Victor Creed because I was over the moon impressed with Liev Shreiber's portrayal.

Genre: Action/Romance

A/N: Set after X3. Any grammar or spelling errors made by the boys is part of the dialogue and meant to represent how a young child speaks.

Natural Selection

He heard the brats before he saw them. Of course, he wasn't seeing much, other than filthy pavement as he was laying face down in what he assumed to be an alley , God knows where. He had been so bored last night that he set out to see if it was actually possible to drink an entire bars worth of alcohol. The details were fuzzy, which meant he was at least successful enough to actually get drunk enough to give himself alcohol poisoning.

"Mister," a small voice tentatively inquired. "Mister, are you okay?"

"Maybe he's dead," another voice, slightly higher, chimed in. The brat sounded slightly scared, slightly hopeful. He almost snorted aloud.

"Nuh-uh," the first voice replied scornfully. "Look, he's breathin'."

He smirked and held his breath for a moment.

"Are you sure," the higher voice queried. He could hear and feel them moving closer.

"Danny don't touch him," he heard the first voice say just before he exploded into a blur of motion, pulling his knees up under his body, and then rocketing himself into a stand in less than a heartbeat. Another insanely fast blur of motion had him turned and facing them. His theatrics had the desired effect. They were standing there, frozen and slack jawed. He growled softly, and smirked again as he saw the taller one pull the smaller one , Danny, most likely, behind him.

The older one kept his eyes on him, while trying to back up slowly. Danny however, was impeding his efforts. He kept trying to peek around the barrier of the bigger one's body.

"Patrick," he whined. "I can't see."

"You don't need to," Patrick said fiercely. "Just keep moving back."

He chuckled at that. That wouldn't save them, not if he really wanted to hurt them. Which, oddly enough, he didn't. Scare them a little, maybe. Give them a reminder of why they should stay out of alleys and any other places where things like him lurked.

"Patrick and Danny," he growled, looking at each one in turn. They froze and stared up at him saucer eyed. He held back another chuckle and smiled at them purposely showing his fangs.

Patrick gasped. "You've got fangs!"

"He's got claws too," Danny chimed in. "I saw 'em when he was layin' down." Danny pushed his way in front of Patrick. "I bet he's a mutant! Are you , mister? Are you a mutant?"

Patrick's skin turned a shade best compared to cottage cheese. "Shut up, Danny!"

Danny gasped and turned to him in outrage. "You're not asposed to say shut up! Mom said-"

"You brother," he cut in, in the hopes of stopping the younger ones whining. He had restrained himself admirably so far, but hell, animals ate their young for less.

"Yup, " Danny answered. "And he's in trouble cause he said a no-no and-"

Patrick rolled his eyes and said "Be quiet, Danny. Now."

Danny scowled and muttered under his breath, " You didn't say please.'

He chuckled again and asked , " Got stuck with you little brother today?"

Patrick sighed. "Yeah. And he never listens. Never!"

"They never do, kid. Little brothers are always getting into shit."

Both boys gasped at his use of profanity. Danny pointed at him and bounced up and down. "He said a no-no! He said a no-no! He said-"

His sing song chant was cut off as Patrick clapped his hand over his mouth. "Enough, Danny. Keep quiet, alright?" He held his hand there until Danny nodded somewhat sulkily. He watched as Patrick rubbed a comforting hand across the back of Danny's neck and his heart stuttered a little. Damned if it didn't remind him of him and Jimmy. He felt a sort of bittersweet nostalgia mixed with wry amusement. Little brothers really were a pain in the ass.

Patrick bit his lip before stepping forward boldly. "So, are you," he asked.

"Am I what, " he replied, daring the boy to have the balls to really ask the question. He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

Danny pulled on his arm, trying to get his attention. Maybe he finally realized just how close to danger they were. Patrick took Danny's hand off his arm, gave it a little squeeze and held it. The simple touch calmed the boy.

Just like him and Jimmy, he thought and felt his stomach clench. He remembered all the things they used to say to each other without ever saying a word. The looks, the gestures, the tiny touches that would send a clear message, but only to each other. The language only they knew. God, so much that could be conveyed by touch, so many messages sent and received wordlessly.

He realized he'd been staring at their joined hands for a while and smiled wryly. "What if I am?" He watched them intently, waiting for their response.

Patrick bit his lip again before replying." Then you should be careful."

He blinked in surprise. He should be careful? The four foot nothing' brat thought HE should be careful? Too rich.

"Why, " he asked.

To his surprise, Patrick came closer. "Down the street, there's this crappy bar. It used to be a biker bar, but now there are all these Friends of Humanity dorks there."

He was surprised again. " Thanks for the warning, kid," he said seriously.

Patrick flushed and then stood a little taller. He managed not to smile at the display. The kid was brave enough to warn him about possible danger, he deserved to feel a little proud of himself.

"Can you fly, " Danny asked.

Patrick rolled his eyes and gave a gusty sigh.

"No," he replied, chuckling.

"Oh," Danny said, mildly disappointed. "Well, what can you do?"

He lengthened his claws and smiled widely, showing as much fang as possible. "Eat nosy kids, " he growled out menacingly, getting ready to enjoy the moment they bolted.

Their eyes were huge again, completely focused on his fangs and claws.

Danny was the first to recover. "Cool, " he said matter of factly.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Victor Creed was startled into genuine laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I really appreciate the feedback and to know that people are actually reading this.

He had been about to usher the brats out of the alley and bid them an almost fond farewell, when he heard the gunshots. He reached forward and none too gently grabbed the boys, shoving them behind him.

"What's going on," Patrick asked nervously.

"Don't know," he replied. "Stay here. Keep quiet." Wonder of all wonders, both boys obeyed him without argument.

His eyes narrowed as he tilted his head to the side, listening intently. He heard someone yell about calling the police, followed by three more gunshots. Then there was screaming and the sound of running feet. The sound of someone screaming didn't really bother him. He and the sounds of screaming were old friends. He was also well acquainted with whimpering, begging, crying and even retching.

He could hear sirens in the distance, but who knew when the police would actually arrive. More gun shots rang out, closer this time. Maybe half a block away. The people were running this way too, which probably meant whoever was firing the gun was pursuing them, herding them. If he was smart, he would leave the brats here and get the hell out of dodge before the police got there. Just when he had made up his mind to do just that, a crystal clear image pushed itself into his brain. It was an image of a shadowy figure holding a handgun, passing by the alley, and then for whatever reason, turning and seeing the brats there, by themselves. Defenseless. He growled in anger and a little self disgust. He didn't even know these kids, so what did he care if they bled out in some alley? Except, they weren't bad kids, as far as kids went. Also, they had provided him with the longest conversation he'd had with anyone for weeks.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the appearance of a body falling in front of the alley. It was a man and he hadn't been shot, he had just stumbled and fallen while trying to get away. The man tried to get up to run, but gunfire sounded again, and the man cried out and collapsed. He could smell the blood even before he watched it pool around the body on the sidewalk.

He heard sniffling coming from behind him. Great. Just fucking great. He turned his head slightly, still keeping an eye on the alley entrance. Patrick had both arms around Danny, holding him protectively. There was no evidence of his earlier annoyance with his younger brother. Danny had his face squished against his brother's chest, looking for all the world like he was actually trying to crawl inside of his big brother. He hoped that neither boy knew the dead guy. Yeah, because seeing a stranger get perforated was so much less horrifying somehow. He mentally rolled his eyes at himself and turned his attention back to the dangerous end of the alley.

Just in time too, because there he was. Crew cut, blonde. Dirty white tank top, covered in sweat and bloodstains. Oversized camouflage pants with the side pockets bulging, probably with extra ammo for the rifle he was carrying and the handgun he had stuck in his waist band. Black combat boots with scuffs on the toes. But what really pulled it all together, what really made the outfit, as the ladies would say, were the rainbow colored suspenders that the dipshit was wearing. Seriously? What the fuck? Where did this asshole learn to dress? The Crazy Douche Bag Handbook? Jesus Christ, he was going to have to kill this guy on principal alone.

Danny whimpered at just the right, and of course, absolutely wrong moment, attracting the gunman's attention . He growled back over his shoulder, "Get as far back as you can, and get down."

He didn't wait to see if they obeyed him before he started moving towards the shit head holding the gun. He could feel his face stretching into what he fondly called Victor Creed smile number six, also known as his come here so I can tear out your eyeballs and use them as finger puppets smile. It was when that smile had no effect that he knew the guy was truly crazy.

Crazy guy turned towards him and started to raise the barrel of the rifle. Victor started to run towards him, gaining momentum with each bounding step. He heard the rifle fire, pop-pop-pop, and felt the impact of three bullets slam into him. Right shoulder, right side and right hip. It barely slowed him down.

He barreled into him, knocking the rifle out of his hands, and bringing them both down onto the sidewalk hard. He tore into the wannabe mass murderer's chest with his claws. The punk screamed like a little bitch, but still had the presence of mind to try and get to the handgun tucked into his waistband. Victor toyed with the idea of letting him, but decided there was too much that could go wrong. He slapped at the offending hand with his claws extended and was rewarded with another scream. He grinned and brought his face down to the now whimpering man's.

"Wanna try again," Victor offered. "It could be fun, "he said almost playfully. The man just stared at him blankly for a moment before saying, "But I shot you. I shot you. Didn't I? I shot you ,didn't I?"

Victor smirked. "Yeah, you got me."

The crazy bastard smiled almost sweetly. "Then you're dead. Right? That's how it works, I shot you so you're dead." He nodded to himself while he spoke as if reassuring himself that because he said it, it was true.

Victor smiled at him, almost friendly. "Nah. Tickled a little , though."

"No," the man said, his tone heading towards panic. "That's not right. That's not how it works. I shoot you , you fall down and then it's quiet. I don't have to hear you anymore. Your lights go out and it's quiet. No more loud thoughts or feelings, just quiet. That's the way it works. It has to. It has to," he was almost yelling now. He bucked underneath Victor, trying to get loose. "It has to, " he screamed, and then suddenly went still and quiet.

He turned his head and stared directly into Victor's eyes. "I know what you are." He nodded to himself again. Great, Victor thought. Why were so many of the crazy ones talkative? Was it some sort of requirement? Wear rainbow suspenders and babble crazy shit? He sighed and started to stand up.

"You're a cat," the crazy man said quietly. "And you're playing with your food."

Okay Crazy, Victor thought, now you've got my attention. Not that you would want it, if you were you know, sane. Victor brought his face down close to his again. He found himself staring into grey eyes that were slowly turning silver, and regarding him without blinking.

"You make their lights go out too," he whispered to Victor. "And you've been doing it for so long, so much longer than me. Does it help? Does it make it quiet? Is it ever quiet?" His silver eyes closed and a lone tear fell from his right eye.

And the hits just kept on coming. He was a Path of some sort. Telepath. Empath. Didn't really matter. All people would see was another reason to hate and fear mutants.

He sighed. 'No, kid. It's never quiet."

The mercury colored eyes opened up again, staring at him. "Will you make it quiet? Can you ? For just a little while? I haven't slept in forever," he pleaded.

"Yeah, " Victor said quietly. " I can do that."

With a relieved sigh, he smiled and closed his now shining silver eyes. Victor reached out one hand and quickly, almost gently, broke his neck. He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to clear his thoughts. Fuck, he hated mercy kills. They were never any fun.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I promise that the story will move faster soon and there will be smut. I just prefer to have plot and character development to go along with my mindless porn.

"Is it over," Patrick called. "Is it safe to come out?"

Victor winced. Technically, it was safe, but for some reason he didn't care to investigate right this moment, he wasn't too keen on them seeing their second dead body. He thought a moment.

"Come out," he said. "Keep Danny's eyes covered, and you keep your eyes on me, got it?"

"Okay, " Patrick said, his voice subdued.

He walked slowly, with his hand over Danny's eyes, trying not to trip over his own feet as while his eyes were glued to Victor's.

When they were close enough, Victor grabbed them and ushered them around and away from the body.

"Which way is home, kid," he asked, while scanning the street for any other danger.

"Across the street, past the church," Patrick replied, pointing at a church steeple about three blocks away.

"Anyone home?"

"No. Mom's at work until five."

"You got a key," he asked, hoping to God the answer was yes, because seriously, he'd done his good deed for the decade and he really didn't need to spend the rest of the afternoon babysitting and most likely playing therapist to two traumatized kids.

Patrick nodded.

"Thank fucking God," Victor muttered.

"He said another no-no," Danny whispered.

"This whole day is a no-no," Patrick replied miserably.

"Got that right, kid," Victor said.

He led them across the street and in the direction that Patrick had pointed. Luck or karma was with him and they managed to turn the corner right before the police arrived. Hurray, the police are here, he thought bitterly to himself. They were only, what? Ten minutes too late to do any real good?

Moving quickly, with Patrick and Danny trotting to keep up with him, they managed to reach their destination without further incident.

Patrick quickly unlocked the door to the apartment building and held the door open for Victor and Danny.

"We're on the third floor," Danny said.

"Of course you are," Victor replied.

"The elevator's broken," Patrick said.

Victor sighed. "Of course it is."

They made their way up three flights of stairs, with Victor muttering obscenities under his breath and Danny giggling whenever Victor said a swear word he actually knew the meaning of.

"We're apartment seventeen, " Patrick said. Victor rolled his eyes and followed them down the hallway. Patrick unlocked the door and ushered them inside. He entered last and locked the door behind him. Victor raised an eyebrow.

Patrick shrugged. "Mom's rule. The door is always locked when we're home alone."

"What's your dad have to say about that," Victor asked.

Patrick shrugged. "Nothing."

Victor smirked. "Mom's in charge , huh?""Daddy was in charge, but he can't be in charge anymore, cause he's dead," Danny said quietly.

Victor winced internally. If he needed another reason to be pissed off at God, the Universe, whatever- there it was. Seriously, what benevolent creator would think that these kids needed anymore shit to deal with? What loving God would put someone like fucking Sabertooth in their path?

There was an awkward silence for a while. Anyone else would have expressed sympathy for their situation. Not him. He didn't believe in that shit. You either rolled with the punches and got stronger, or you were weak and got culled from the herd.

Patrick broke the silence. "You should get cleaned up. You can shower if you want. I can throw your stuff into the wash."

"I look that bad?"

Patrick ducked his head and nodded. "Yeah, and you smell like October Fest." He kind of cringed away from Victor as he said it, unsure if Victor would take offense,

Victor's eyes widened. That little brat! He had balls though, he'd give him that.

Danny chimed in. "Patrick's good at doing laundry. That's why mommy put it on his chore list."

Victor sighed. He might as well get cleaned up, he'd attract less attention that way.

"Alright, " he conceded. "Point me towards your shower."

Patrick showed him to the bathroom and waited patiently while Victor handed him his filthy clothes. The kid was right. They did smell.

"Towels are in the cabinet on the left side of the sink, " Patrick called through the closed bathroom door.

He turned on the water and adjusted the temperature to just this side of scalding. He was just about to get into the shower when he heard a timid knock at the door.

"Yeah, " he called out.

"Um…I have your pants and shirt, and your socks, but….I don't have your, um…underwear," Patrick said nervously. "Is it in there still?"

Victor chuckled. "Nah, kid. I don't wear any."

"Oh." There was a moment of silence, and then, "I'm making sandwiches. Do you want peanut butter or turkey?"

Victor thought about it for a moment. "Make me a couple of each," he replied.

"Okay," Patrick said.

Victor could hear him walking back to the kitchen. Finally, a moment of peace. He stepped into the tub and pulled the curtain closed behind him. His eyes were suddenly assaulted by pastel colored polka dots on a lime green background. His lip curled in disgust. He looked down at his feet to see that he was standing on pink heart shaped no slip shower decals. If the towels were pink, or pastel, he wasn't using them. He'd stroll out there naked and scar these brats for life.

He reached for the soap and growled. It was lilac colored. He sniffed, taking in it's scent. Lilac colored and it smelled like lavender. He searched in vain for other soap. There was none. I'm in hell he thought to himself. He sighed for the millionth time since waking up in that God forsaken alley and started to scrub his body with the flowery minutes later, he was clean, and had a not pink or pastel towel wrapped around his waist. He stalked into the kitchen and sat down at the table, He grabbed a sandwich off the plate and began to shove it in his mouth. The two boys stared at him wide eyed.

"What, "he asked around a mouth full of food.

"You've got like, a twelve pack," Patrick said, staring at him in awe.

He chuckled at Patrick's awestruck expression.

"How come you don't have any underwear," Danny asked.

Patrick managed to turn beet red, groan , and slap his hand to his forehead all at once.

Victor's chuckles turned into outright laughter.

"What? What's so funny?" Danny looked at them confused.

"Danny, you don't ask people stuff like that," Patrick said exasperatedly.

"Why? Mom said, if you don't know something, you should ask. I didn't know, so I asked."

Patrick just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"It's a personal preference, kid."

Danny looked confused again. "What's that mean?"

"It means he doesn't like to wear underwear, dweeb."

Danny nodded sagely. "Me neither." He frowned. "But mommy says I have to."

"Well, he's a grown up, so he doesn't have to if he doesn't want to, okay? Now just drop it and eat your sandwich," Patrick ordered.

Danny shrugged and nibbled on the corner of his sandwich. They sat silently together, eating.

Victor glanced around the room, and spotted a can of soda next to Patrick. A drink wouldn't be a bad idea.

"You got another one of those," he asked Patrick, motioning at the soda with his chin.

Patrick nodded. "In the fridge," He started to get up, but Victor waved him back down.

"I can get it," he said, shoving the rest of his sandwich in his mouth.

He got up and walked over to the fridge, opened it and reached in to grab a soda. He was closing the fridge door when they heard the apartment door open and close quickly, accompanied by a husky voice calling out anxiously, " Patrick? Danny? Where are you guys?"Patrick scooted his chair back from the table and quickly stood up.

"We're in here, Lissa," he called out.

The owner of the husky voice appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Oh, thank God! Your mom is frantic! It was all over the news and you guys weren't answering the phone, She was afraid you might have been at the park, and-" she broke off when she finally spotted Victor. She stared at his towel clad form, and at a complete loss, he stared back.

She was maybe five foot three, with very feminine curves. Luscious, he thought. Luscious would be the word. Her long, strawberry blonde hair was in a messy bun piled on the top of her head. He wasn't sure if her eyes were really that green, or if they just stood out because her skin was so pale. He stared at her, and for the first time in over two years, felt something like interest stir inside him.

She stared at him, with her lips slightly parted. Finally, she blinked. "Who are you, " she asked a bit warily.

And because God, the Universe, etc, all hated Victor Creed and had already spent the majority of the day fucking with him, that was, of course, the exact moment that his towel decided to turn traitor and fall to the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I am so glad that people are enjoying this. I have never posted anything on before, and I am very happy that people are reading. I am especially thankful to those who have pointed out mistakes. Sorry, I thought I caught them, apparently neither spell check or I are completely infallible. I will try to do better.

She was staring at him like a slack jawed idiot, she couldn't help it. He was well over six feet tall and apparently made of muscle. From what she could see, every inch of his tawny flesh was sculpted, and she could see a lot.

She managed to pull herself together, and ask him who he was. Before ho could answer, his towel had fallen to the floor. Don't look down, don't look down, she repeated to herself, hoping to curb her impulse to look. It didn't work. Car wrecks, two headed livestock, bad outfits, and beautiful naked men- sometimes you just had to look.

"Oh my, " she said softly, and immediately wanted to kick herself. She hadn't meant to say anything at all, and she certainly hadn't had the intention of sounding like some cheesy romance heroine from one of the books she sold to teenage girls and undersexed housewives.

Her reaction was perfectly understandable though. That part of his anatomy was in proportion with the rest of him, and the rest of him was huge.

He cleared his throat and her eyes flew up to his face to see his amused expression. She felt her face go up in flames, but she couldn't let her embarrassment turn her attention from the issue at hand.

"Who are you," she repeated, her tone a little more aggressive.

He raised an eyebrow. "Victor. You mind if I pick up my towel now? Or were you not done staring yet?"

Somehow, she managed to turn even redder. He chuckled at the sight and her eyes narrowed in annoyance. He chuckled more and bent to get his towel.

Arrogant prick, she seethed. Then again, the attractive ones usually were. Probably because they were so used to women throwing themselves at them. She sneered. Not this girl. She knew better.

She watched him wrap the towel around himself with capable looking hands. Her eyes widened again. Were those claws? Holy shit! Did he have claws?

"Boys, come over here now," she said firmly.

Victor sighed. Here it comes, he thought. Shrill screeching and accusations any second now, lasting until he either left, or killed her to shut her up. Such a shame. The pretty ones were always judgmental and high strung.

The boys dutifully came over to her and stood next to her, She looked them over with a critical eye. They didn't appear to be injured anywhere, but they did look different somehow.

"I'm assuming that he didn't arrive her naked," she said to Patrick.

He nodded." His clothes are in the wash."

"Why don't you and Danny go check on those," she half suggested, half ordered, giving them a gentle push towards the laundry room.

"He doesn't have any underwear," Danny piped up.

Patrick groaned. "Danny," he started.

"I know, I know," Danny said. "We aren't supposed to talk about that stuff, I just don't know why." He threw his hands up in the air and followed his brother to go check on Victor's laundry.

She turned to Victor and sighed." The boys don't seem to be afraid of you and they're not injured, so I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt and you're going to tell me what the hell is going on."

She stood facing him, with her arms crossed over her chest. Huh. Not really the reaction he expected. He just stared for a second.

She glared at him. "I'm waiting," she said impatiently. Victor held back a smile. He wondered how long it would take for her to start tapping her foot with impatience. He wasn't going to find out today, though. Oh well. He sighed. She wasn't going to like his explanation, not at all. He stalled.

"Who are you," he asked. Turnabout was fair play.

"Lissa Montgomery. I help with the boys. Now, tell me what's going on, " she ordered.

Demanding little thing, he thought. Probably used to getting her own way.

He cleared his throat. "The boys found me passed out in an alley a few blocks from here." She gasped in outrage and was about to speak. He held his hand up, forestalling any possible harping or screeching.

"Just wait, " he said. "It get better. A couple of minutes later, some gun toting crazy started using people for target practice. He was passing by us when the kids made some noise and got his attention." She gasped again, this time in horror, and covered her mouth with her hands.

Victor went on. "I had to …intervene. I got the boys home safely after. Between laying in the alley, and taking care of the other situation, my clothes got a little filthy. Patrick decided I needed to clean up. Something about me smelling like October Fest." He shrugged.

Lissa just stared at him. "That sounds like him," she mused.

"You should know," Victor said carefully. "That they saw two people die today."

Lissa closed her eyes. Dear God, those poor babies. Suddenly, her eyes flew open. "Wait, did you gice a statement to the police?"

Victor snorted. "No."

"Well, why not," she asked, taken aback.

He held up his clawed hands, with his eyebrows raised. Oh, she thought. That sort of made sense.

She sighed. "Well, I guess I'll have to call the police after you leave. They might need the boys to testify against the," she paused, trying to think of the right term. "Shooter," she finished finally.

He snorted again. "No. They won't.'

"But," she began.

"Second person they saw die was the shooter," he cut in.

"Oh," she said lamely.

"Oh," he replied, mocking her.

She glared and stalked up to him.

"Listen you," she said and poked his chest. He looked down at her in surprise. "You might think you're some bad ass, hot shit, king of the world, but that doesn't give you the right to be a prick." She poked him again.

"I love those boys and they've been through too much already. Maybe violence and death don't mean anything to you, but they definitely didn't need any additions to the list of things they've endured." Another poke. There was maybe three inches of space between them and she was glaring up into his face. He could smell her anger, but he wasn't picking up any fear. Was she just that brave, or did he lose his edge last night while he was out trying to drink himself into oblivion?

Another poke and her voice finally started to take on that shrill tone he'd been waiting for. "Are you even listening to me, " she asked, poking him again. His eyes narrowed. Maybe she just didn't know well enough to be afraid.

He reached out, grasped her shoulders and lifted her up so her face was level with his. Blessed silence as she stared at him apprehensively.

"Quit poking me frail, or I'll poke you back," he growled.

He watched her throat muscles work as she swallowed. The smell of fear was finally there. Good. He smiled Victor Creed smile number four, also known as his please, please just give me any excuse to tear into like a wild animal - smile. She swallowed again, convulsively.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have poked you.," she said. "Now put me down." She wasn't looking at him anymore. She was looking anywhere but him, and for some reason, he didn't like that. He lowered her gently to the floor.

She cleared her throat and spoke, still not looking at him. "So, the police took care of him?"

He shook his head. "They got there too late."

"So, who did, " she asked, confused.

He rolled his eyes. Was she being deliberately obtuse? "I did, frail."

"Oh," she said again, very quietly. He didn't mock her this time.

She went over to the kitchen table and sat down. He ambled over and sat across from her, waiting for the inevitable histrionics.

Suddenly, she looked up, pinning him with her eyes. "Damage control, " she said brusquely. "We need to talk with the boys, see if we can concoct a version of the story where you intervene, but they don't get a very good look at you and they find their own way home."

"Why," he asked.

"Well, obviously they're going to need to talk to someone about this, but it'd be best if your involvement was kept to a minimum. If they barely saw you, and no one else comes forward, there's no real reason the police should be able to find you."

"You want to lie to the police," he asked, just to clarify.

She nodded. "It's the best way. The boys will get any help they may need, and the police won't know much, if anything about you, so there won't be anything to really point them in your direction. That way there won't be any repercussions for you to deal with."

He sneered at her. "Well, aren't you the little problem solver. What makes you think the police would give me any trouble? It was self defense, after all."

"It was," she agreed. "But I don't know that they would treat you fairly." She gestured to his claws.

He sat back, stunned. He had already come to that conclusion, hence the leaving before the police arrived. He hadn't expected her to come to that conclusion though. It put him on the defensive.

"What the hell do you care, frail," he snarled.

Fresh fear and more anger came from her. "I told you. I love those boys," she paused. "I love those boys and you saved them." Her green eyes stared into his earnestly. He liked that. Direct eye contact. Most women didn't look him in the eye, not after seeing his claws and fangs, and there was no way she could have missed the fangs, not after the way he had smiled at her.

She reached across the table, putting her hand on top of his. "I'm not going to lie to you," she said. "You scare me a little." Only a little, he thought. I must be losing my touch.

She continued. "Just because you scare me, doesn't mean you deserve to be treated unfairly. I think they will take one look at you and," she paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully. " make up their minds. I think even if they can't nail you for this, they will try to make you guilty of something, you know?"

Yeah. He knew. Even before he was the way he was, even as a child, people took one look at him and made up their minds that he was an animal. Curious that she hadn't, though.

"You seem to know a lot about this," he rumbled.

"I own a bookstore. I had an employee. He was a good kid, but his ears and nose were pointed, kind of like a bat's. "

"A mutant," he declared.

She nodded. "He was just trying to get home, taking the subway and there was a purse snatcher. There was some mix up with the police and he freaked out when they tried to arrest him. They shot him. Several people came forward and there was an inquest, but it didn't really matter. He was still dead. I don't want to see that happen to you."

She looked down and realized her hand was still holding his. She blushed and started to pull away. He caught her hand before she could.

"Thank you," he said quietly. He stroked his thumb over her wrist gently. She nodded and swallowed again, still pink. He could smell a new scent now. One he enjoyed as much as fear. Arousal. He took a deep breath in through his nose, relishing the scent. He looked directly into her eyes, still stroking her hand.

"Let go please," her voice shook a little.

He didn't let go. Instead he lifted her hand to his face and rubbed his cheek against the inside of her wrist, at her pulse point. He could feel it quicken. He smirked a little.

"I thought we were making friends," he said.

"Lissa's OUR friend." Victor turned to see Danny standing with his hands on his hips, glaring at him. Patrick was holding Victor's clothes, staring at them curiously.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! They are helping me to stay motivated.

Victor leaned back in his leather recliner, sighing contentedly. It had taken a two and a half hour long cab ride to get him back to New York. How the hell he'd ended up in Jersey, he'd never know for sure, but he had his suspicions that it had had something to do with an argument about cows.

After a little awkward laughter at Danny's possessiveness of her, Lissa had managed to get both boys on board with the plan. She was a smart little frail, he'd give her that.

When he'd gotten home, he'd showered again, this time with his own soap. It wouldn't have bothered anyone else, but to him, the clinging lilac smell was beyond irritating. It wasn't because it was a feminine scent, it was because it was a manufactured scent. He actually didn't mind real lilacs. He wasn't going to go around with them tucked behind his ear or anything but it was one of the less offensive flowery scents.

He almost felt like himself again. Almost. That was the problem with mercy kills. They left him wanting. They weren't like the normal jobs he took for Shield. No pain, no screaming, no mayhem. Nothing to satisfy the beast that lurked under his skin. He sighed again, this time in annoyance.

He reached for the remote control on the side table next to his chair. Turning on the TV , he began to flip through the various news channels, hoping to catch some of the financial reports.

He had gone legit fifteen years ago, using whatever money he earned from his work with Shield to play the stock market. Most of his investments paid off. He had then used that money to start two companies- one that was a investment firm and one that was a research and development company. Both were profitable and had gone international, but neither had his name publicly attached to it. He had plans to come out of the closet, as it were, as owner in about a decade or so provided that the companies continued to do well.

Shield had cleaned up his record, and given him a second chance after he had successfully completed a supposedly impossible mission . A mission that several of the world's governments would disavow any knowledge of, and had actually landed him in the hospital for three weeks. Yeah, even with his healing factor.

Shield had then decided to keep him on retainer (see short leash), not just as their wet works guy, but also as a consultant. Go figure. However, all Shield agents had to go through a rigorous psychological evaluation. When first told he would have to see a shrink, he'd almost laughed himself into unconsciousness. When he realized they were serious, he almost turned them down. He didn't know what they would label him as, but he knew he was sick of labels. Animal. Psycho. Freak. He'd heard them all. Then, Nick Fury, that cagey bastard, had offered him a deal he couldn't resist. A deal that none of the "good guys" had ever thought of offering before. Victor would receive three hundred thousand dollars per completed mission and would be on a ten thousand dollar a month retainer regardless of whether or not he actually had a mission (see assassination, rescue/extraction, or government approved mayhem). That wasn't what sealed the deal, however. The kicker, the icing on the cake, if you will, was Fury's offer of one kill per month, so long as it was "justifiable". When Victor had asked for clarification, Fury had told him that he knew something about predators. Predators didn't just like to hunt, they had to hunt. Fury said he understood that. He may not like it, but he understood it. Intrigued, Victor asked him to go on with his explanation. Fury told him that provided he killed someone who was a clear and present danger to society, such as a pedophile, a rapist, murderer, or arms dealer, etc., then Shield would send a cleanup crew to dispose of any evidence, and smooth things over with the local law enforcement officers. There were just two conditions: one, Victor had to call the kill in and two, he had to see the shrink once a month. Fury gave him forty eight hours to decide. He replied in thirty six hours, and made his first "justified" kill that night. It had been sweet.

There were three shrinks that Shield used. Two were men, one was a woman. The men pretty much pissed themselves at the thought of dealing with the big, bad Sabertooth. The woman, who turned out to be Creed's savior, was more practical.

Upon their first meeting, she introduced herself as Sean Kelly and told him that she would be in charge of his evaluation. She looked him directly in the eyes, but her posture was neutral, not aggressive. She told him that her way of conducting evaluations was rather informal. She would be asking all sorts of personal questions and most likely pissing him off, sometimes even on purpose. He didn't need to censor himself in any way, in regards to any topic and anything he told her was in his confidential file that could only be accessed by Fury. He was not allowed to harm her in any way, nor was he allowed to take his ire out on her loved ones. After making these statements, she asked if he had any questions for her. He had asked her, in the creepiest, yet most urbane tone of voice he could muster, "Quid pro quo, Clarice?" Her eyes had widened and he thought that she would bolt like the other two had. Instead, she surprised the hell out of him by laughing so hard she nearly fell out of her chair. He actually had to help her right herself and she hadn't flinched when his claws had brushed against her skin.

When she was finally able to talk, she had thanked him and told him that she had needed that because she was having a rough morning. Sean Kelly wasn't at all what he expected a shrink to be. She had a wicked sense of humor and she took no prisoners.

True to what she had told him during their first meeting, she asked him a lot of personal questions. It wasn't until during the third part of the evaluation that she pissed him off. She asked him questions about his sex life. After he had answered the invasive questions, she paused for a moment, and then informed him calmly, but firmly, that none of what he described was sex. It was rape. He had felt the first stirrings of anger at that quiet, calm declaration. She had given him a moment to respond to her statement/accusation. When he just sat there in stony silence, she asked him if he knew the difference between sex and rape. He snarled at her then , that there was no difference between the two for him. Then she had had the audacity to ask him if he had ever made love. That was when he went ballistic and destroyed her office. He had never touched her, or harmed her in any way, but all of the furniture, except for the chair she was sitting on, had been fair game.

Their next session had taken place outside, and much to his amusement and chagrin, she had explained the difference between sex and rape. Less amusing had been her explanation of the long term after effects of rape for the victim. Then she had asked him why he thought he raped women. He had shrugged and said it was easier. With a gimlet eye, she had asked him if he thought he was incapable of seduction or of attracting a mate. This time, he destroyed a couple of trees and some bushes. When he was finished "expressing himself" as Sean called it, she had patted him on the shoulder and told him that he was actually a nice looking boy, claws or no claws. He had raised an eyebrow and asked if she was interested. She had snorted and said that she was a middle aged, married, Irish catholic lady with five grown children, and she simply didn't have that kind of stamina anymore. Then they had both laughed together for a good long while,

She had sent him home with actual textbooks about human sexuality, human development, and a book called The Animal Within: How to Manage Your Inner Beast. He had almost thrown that one back at her until he saw who the author was. Dr. Henry McCoy. The big blue fur ball might play for the x-pansies, but he was both feral and a civilized genius.

He had planned to ditch the books once she was gone, but he had overheard two Shield operatives joking about whether he could read or not. His contrary nature made him read all three books within a week. He wasn't bored. He didn't think they were stupid. He went to the library and spent hours in the human studies section. Two of the librarians knew him by name within three days.

Three weeks later, at the next session, he told her that he had read the books she gave him, as well as several others. She tilted her head at him and smiled like the proverbial cat who got the cream. All they did that session was talk about everything he'd learned. He actually enjoyed talking with another human being. He was almost disappointed when she said that their time was up. She gave him two more books. One discussed the trauma and recovery of rape and sexual abuse survivors. The other was about profiling sexual predators.

He read those, but didn't enjoy them at all. He knew the point she was making, without her even saying a word. And it worked too, in a way that harping and screeching wouldn't have. From that point on, he hadn't raped a woman. For the past fifteen years, he had paid for sex, or charmed someone enough for a one night stand. He hadn't had an actual relationship with anyone, but he hadn't hurt anyone either. He was actually rather proud of himself for learning to curb that particular anti-social behavior. He would never be a nice guy. He knew that. He was a broody, growling alpha male who didn't have time for most of the human bullshit that he saw on a day to day basis. He was somewhere in between monster and man, and most of the time he was alright with that.

So, when he still couldn't relax, couldn't calm down, couldn't settle down in his own skin after his shower, and his stint in his comfy recliner of doom, he reached for the phone to call Sean. He knew he could tell her what had happened and she would help him sort through it without judging him, or making him feel week for giving in to his human side's urge to make sense of the senseless. She would just help him get his shit together and get right with himself. First he would call Sean, and then he would call Fury and pray to God that the crazy Path he killed earlier didn't count as his monthly treat.


	6. Chapter 6

Natural Selection Chapter 6

A/N: Some of things Victor says or does may seem out of character, but I am trying to a portray a Victor Creed who is on the road to redemption. A road with lots of potholes and the traffic is awful, but it could lead to possible redemption none the less.

Thanks so much for all the reviews and encouragement. The reward for such is at the end of this chapter. Just a tiny bit of smut. Victor engaging in a little self maintenance.

He woke up hard. So hard it was almost painful. He reached down and cupped himself through his sweatpants. He hissed as he felt his cock twitch in response. It had been three weeks since he had gotten laid. He hadn't engaged the services of a call girl, and he knew he hadn't gotten laid last night.

At first when he wanted sex, he would just pay for it. Sean had convinced him to try picking up women in bars or clubs. She said it would help him to integrate himself into society. She told him that if he struck out, he could still go find a prostitute to take care of his needs. He'd resisted at first because he hadn't seen the point. He didn't want to talk to any of these women, didn't give a shit about them, or what they wanted, he just wanted to get off without hurting anyone.

When he told Sean that, she'd rolled her eyes and said, "Victor, prostitutes are very convenient, and I agree that should you not be able to get your needs met in any other way, then you should utilize their services in order to help control your sexual urges. However, I want you to realize that a prostitute, no matter how willing, is only having sex with you for financial gain, not because she wants you." Instead of going into one of his feral rages, he'd actually thought about what she was saying.

After a moment, he had asked her in a somber tone, "Sean, who'd even want me?" He had held out his clawed hands for emphasis. She had taken both of his hands in hers and held them. "Victor honey, " she'd said., "You're six foot six and made of muscle. You have the body of a Greek god."

"A Greek god with fangs," he replied sullenly.

She'd laughed. "And for some women, that's just going to make you more attractive." She'd laughed again, this time at his facial expression. She squeezed his hands before letting them go. "Just try, Victor. I promise you it will be worth it."

So, he'd tried. And failed miserably. He had no idea of how to actually speak to a woman, and he now knew that vodka actually stung when it was thrown into his eyes, and it happened with annoying frequency. Not just vodka either. Oh no, he'd had tequila, beer, rum, and even a glass of merlot dashed into his face in response to his less than gentlemanly way with the ladies. Two had even slapped him. He'd done Sean proud though, and just walked away.

When he'd told her about his problems, her eyes had danced with mirth, but she hadn't laughed at him. "Victor," she'd asked, "have you ever just had a conversation with a woman?" He'd blinked in confusion and asked her what for. She sighed and looked heavenward for a moment. Then she had taken it upon herself to teach him to just have simple conversations with women. She had even taken him on a couple of what she called "field trips".

The first outing had been to an art gallery that was owned by a friend of hers. Somehow he had ended up being intruded to the artist whose show it was. Random inspiration had made him tell her that he was nervous because he'd never been to an art show before. She had replied that she was excruciatingly anxious because she had never had her own show before. He'd asked her about her work, and they 'd just chatted pleasantly for a while, while she showed him her multimedia projects, and he gave his honest, if somewhat uneducated opinion. When the gallery owner had called her over to talk to a prospective buyer, she had turned back to look at him as she'd walked away. He'd seen something in her expression that had amazed him. She was genuinely interested in him. She hadn't wanted to end their conversation. She had wanted to continue speaking with him, spending time with him. Her response interested him to say the least.

The other outing Sean had taken him on was much less comfortable for him. She had taken him to a singles social at a church. He had almost refused to go in when he got there, but then she had pretty much dared him. She also told him that if he could make it without killing, maiming, or sexually assaulting anyone for two hours, than he was definitely ready for the singles scene. He'd muttered "whatever" and followed her inside.

When they got inside, he'd immediately tried to turn around and leave. Everything was in nauseating shades of red and pink. There were hearts and cut out cupids everywhere. Balloons and streamers hung from the ceiling and there was a gigantic banner that said " God wants you to find someone who loves you like HE does". He almost threw up. Sean grabbed him and steered him towards the registration table before he could bolt. She had him sign in as Wolf Larsen. He had wondered if that made everyone else there sheep.

She had guided him to an empty table and told him to just sit there. He had growled an said he thought that he was there to get women. She had smiled impishly and told him to let the women come to him. And to his astonishment, they did. All sorts of women, different shapes, sizes and ages. He had charmed and chatted and grinned wolfishly every time he saw them licking their lips, or caught the heady scent of their arousal. Two hours later, he'd left with four phone numbers. Phone numbers he'd immediately thrown away once they left. Sean asked him why. He'd replied that it wouldn't have been fair because they weren't looking for the same thing that he was. He was absurdly pleased when she beamed at him in almost parental approval.

On the way home, she had given him a final lesson. She told him, "Different women like different things. Some women like forceful and aggressive, others like gentle and slow, and some want a little of both. Don't approach them with an agenda, and try to move them from point a to point b, at least not in any obvious ways. Don't try to rush things, most women hate that. Talk to them, listen , and use that damned heightened sense of smell of yours and you'll do just fine. Pretend you're hunting if you want, just remember that your objective is a willing sex partner. If your hunt is unsuccessful, you can go to your fall back- prostitutes." It had made sense, both to the man and the animal.

It took two attempts before he found what he was looking for. Brunette, about five nine, not too skinny, with breasts that had more than filled his hands. He stuck to Sean's lessons, and it worked. The night had been a blur of scent and sensation. He'd woken up the next morning at her place, with her curled up next to him asleep. Sean was right. It had been worth it.

A willing woman meant hot, soft lips pressed against his, tongues tangling together and dueling for dominance. It meant smelling want and need and sex, which smelled even better than fear or pain. It meant legs twined around him as he pounded into willing flesh. Someone begging, and saying please had an entirely different context now, as well as someone raking their nails across his back. It turned out that not only did Victor Creed like sex, he was good at it.

He looked down at his still hard cock. Though Sean had never brought up masturbation as a viable substitute, he found it to be an agreeable one so long as he knew he could some type of sex later. The only question in his mind right now was where he wanted to take care of his problem.

Shower, he decided. He got up and quickly moved into the bathroom attached to his bedroom. He grinned. Besides his recliner and his double king sized bed, his eight foot by eight foot, multi head, multi directional shower just might be his most self indulgent luxury. He keyed his preference into the touch pad and took off his sweat pants while waiting for the water to come to temperature. When steam began wafting out of the top of the cubicle, he opened the frosted glass door and stepped in. Immediately, all sides of his body were hit with a warm, slightly stinging spray. He found his soap and worked up a good lather. He regarded his cock, which definitely hadn't lost interest in the proceedings.

He reached down, grasped himself at the base and gave a slow, steady pull towards the tip. He opened up his stance a little to give himself better access. With one hand, he kept up an almost tortuously slow rhythm, and with the other, he lightly palmed his balls. After a few minutes, his hand began to move faster of it's own accord, and he willed himself to slow down. No reason to rush. He let his mind wander through various sexual encounters with different women. A grown rumbled in his chest and he squeezed himself a little harder as he pulled, but didn't go any faster. After a few strokes, he stopped and concentrated on just his balls and the head of his cock. His minds threw visions of women at him. Tall blondes, petite brunettes, voluptuous redheads and fierce little frails who had the nerve to get in his face and poke him with their tiny, elegant fingers.

His spine almost snapped itself in half as he came suddenly, with no warning. His growls echoed off the tiled walls. He continued to stroke himself for a minute, milking every drop he could.

When he was finished, he leaned against the wall of the shower, panting hard. "Well fuck, " he said a little breathlessly. What the hell had that been about? He hadn't even come that hard the last time he'd had sex. What the hell was going on?

He cleaned himself up and then wrapped a towel around his waist. He walked into his office area and grabbed his cell phone, punching in a number he knew by heart.

A male voice answered. "Rising Star Technologies, this is Brian, how may I help you ?"

"It's me," Victor said.

"Mr. Creed, how can I assist you ?" Brian was polite and efficient, but not obsequious.

"Get me information on a Lissa Montgomery. Most likely a Jersey address. She's about five foot three, reddish blonde hair. Maybe twenty six to twenty eight years old."

"What exactly do you want to know," Brian asked.

"Everything," Victor growled.

There was a pause and he could hear Brian's pen scratching as he wrote down his request.

"Time frame," Brian asked.

"By five today."

"Courier or e-mail?"

"Courier. Delivered to my condo."

He hung up then. Sean would have told him he needed to work on his social skills. He rolled his eyes and tried to think of something to amuse himself until the courier arrived.


	7. Chapter 7

Natural Selection Chapter 7

A/N : Sorry it took so long to update. Lots of stuff going on between my job, and taking care of the hubby and kids.

Lissa Montgomery, aged 28. Lived in New Providence, New Jersey, but worked in Berkeley Heights. Owned a book shop called Uncommon Goods. Graduated from UMASS with an associates degree in business. Never married, no children. Registered democrat. No arrests, no police record. No apparent skeletons in her closet. There were other mundane details in the dossier, but nothing that told Victor what he actually wanted to know. He tossed it onto his desk , and glared at it accusingly, as if his foul mood was somehow it's fault.

It had been three days since he'd received the information, and he had read through it several times since then trying to figure out what set this woman apart from the others and made her stick in his head. He had dreamt of her twice. Both dreams had been pleasant to say the least, but he had woken up frustrated. He had jerked off more in the past seventy two hours than he had in his entire adult life. He had picked up the phone to call his usual escort service, but found himself changing his mind, and hanging up before they answered. He had gone out to one of his favorite haunts, and ended up sitting at the bar all night, barely looking at the women who circled him like sharks in designer dresses. His only company had been his hand, and that was not normal for him. More to the point it was making him cranky, and as everyone who knew him could attest, a cranky Victor was a psychotic and murderous Victor.

He knew what he should do. He should track Lissa down, and see her again. Invite her to dinner, maybe a show and then take her back to his place and fuck her through the mattress. And here was the problem with that scenario: one-what if she turned him down and wanted nothing to do with him? Two- why the hell did he want to bring her to his place? He never brought women to his place. He didn't want some frail knowing where he lived and just randomly showing up. And here was another disturbing thought- he wanted to show Lissa his place. He wanted to show her his expensive furniture and his fully stocked chef's kitchen. He wanted to show her his ultra luxurious shower. He wanted to show her his giant, orgy sized bed. He wanted her to know that bed intimately

He sat at his desk with his eyes closed, gathering his thoughts. Treat it like a hunt, Sean had said. Alright, then. He needed a plan, and he couldn't formulate a plan that had a good chance of succeeding until he knew more about his prey. What were her like and dislikes? What was her routine? What weaknesses did she have that could be exploited? While the dossier covered basic information, it didn't provide him with any of this information. So he would do what he would do with any target that he didn't have enough information on, he'd stalk. Sure it was creepy, borderline illegal , and definitely immoral, but it got the job done, and results were all he cared about.

He turned on his laptop and googled her store, Uncommon Goods. She had made a web page for the store that included the stores operating hours, as well as featured authors and special events. It was obvious that she put a lot of time and energy into the website's design. From the online virtual tour of the store, it was also obvious that she put a lot of care into the store itself. It was welcoming and classy, and family friendly without looking like a daycare center. He hummed to himself thoughtfully. Watching her at work could be a very good place to start. Tomorrow.

Lissa had spent the past three hours being annoyed, and now she was swiftly moving into the pissed off category. She had been on the phone all day, trying to get anyone from the city council, or the police department to listen to her about the natural foods store that had moved in next door. She had no problem with organic and natural foods, but the latest so called natural product that they were selling were bath salts. Only, these weren't harmless scented beads you poured into your bath. These were powdered inhalants, that supposedly provided a safe and natural high. Yeah, right. Tell that to the kid who had passed out, and smacked his head on the stone park bench in front of her shop. You could still see the bloodstains that had seeped into the concrete. The police had told her that since there wasn't currently a state or federal law regarding bath salts and that they weren't as yet considered a controlled substance. When she called the city council, she got bounced around from person to person, not because they were trying to stonewall her, but because no one knew how it should be handled. At least the last councilman she had talked to told her that he would look into it. He had also told her that she might consider calling the local paper. A news article on a dangerous substance being sold to minors might be able to send enough rampaging parents on the warpath to make them temporarily halt the sale of the potentially deadly product. That might give law enforcement and the city council enough time to actually do something about the situation.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes. The phone on her desk rang, making her jump a little. She picked it up. " Yes, Margie?"

"Um…you might want to come up here," her teenaged employee said.

"Be right there," she replied. Maybe Margie needed help at the counter. Sure it was only a Tuesday afternoon, but sometimes things did get a little busy, and if someone wanted to special order something, sometimes that meant the line could get a little long. She quickly left her office and went to go help Margie. When she got to the front of the store, and didn't see a long line of customers, she was a little confused.

"What's up, Margie?"

Margie pointed out the large bay window at the front of the store. Outside there was a unkempt looking boy holding a basket that said "Free Samples" in big bold letters, and in the basket were bath salts, the current bane of her frickin' existence. What the hell? Hadn't a kid who bought them just cracked his head open not three feet from where this kid was standing? And now they were giving them away for free? She could barely believe it, but then the way her week was going, it didn't really surprise her.

"Margie?"

"Yeah?"

"Please tell me that you don't do and won't do bath salts, " Lissa pleaded.

Margie snorted. "Are you kidding me? If I was stupid enough to do that crap and it didn't kill me, then my mom would!"

Lissa grinned and nodded in understanding.

"What are you going to do, " Margie asked.

"Brace yourself, Margie, I am going to go out there and harp and screech at him like a fish wife, and if that doesn't work I am going to take all of his free samples and flush them down the toilet where they belong."

Margie laughed. "You go , Lissa!"

Lissa marched out of the store and proceeded to hound, harass and generally make miserable the teenage boy handing out samples. After about ten minutes he handed her the entire basket and walked away muttering about how this definitely wasn't worth minimum wage. Lissa returned to her shop in triumph with much applause from Margie. After they finished flushing all but one of the free samples, Lissa called the local paper. Hopefully, someone there would consider this newsworthy.

Victor almost laughed aloud as he watched Lissa read some punk kid the riot act. Somehow, even with her petite frame, she managed to bully him into giving up the samples. It was a fairly impressive feat. The kid was about six feet tall, and probably outweighed her by at least fifty pounds, He had that slightly pudgy, unkempt look about him that said habitual drug user and fast food connoisseur. His size alone didn't make him dangerous, it was the fact that a lot a males didn't think anything about hitting a female anymore. Personally, Victor no longer saw the point in hitting a woman. It certainly didn't prove he was stronger, or more manly. As far as he was concerned, it just proved you were a dick.

He couldn't decide whether she was brave or reckless, or a little bit of both, Maybe she wasn't aware of how tiny she was? Maybe no one had actually ever hit her before? He growled low in his throat. No one would either, not on his watch. He had been ready to intervene if necessary, but it hadn't been. The punk had been one of the mellower druggie types and had chosen to just cut his losses. Although, he couldn't figure out why Lissa would get so worked up over some bath salts. Didn't women love that girly shit?

She'd been marvelous to watch though, he mused. Her cheeks had been flushed and her little fists clenched at her sides. He had thought she would start poking him any second, but she never touched him. Maybe she saved that for mostly naked guys she'd just met? He chuckled to himself softly.

"More coffee, sir?" He glanced up to the waitress and then back down to the laptop he was supposedly working on.

"Sure, " he said smiling. "And could you please bring me a double order of your ," he paused, glancing over at the menu board. " Free range chicken breast on the organic whole wheat bun?"

"Of course. That comes with soup, salad, or sweet potato fries. Which would you prefer?"

Did he look like a rabbit? "The fries, " he replied, still smiling.

She nodded and walked away to go put in his order. That's right, he thought. Go be a good girl and put in my fifth food order of the day, while the harmless business man from out of town works on his laptop because the crappy hotel his company put him up in doesn't have wifi. At least, that's the story he spouted to the waitress after ordering food the second time. And my, how sympathetic and understanding she had been. He'd alternated between pretending to work on financial reports, and actually reading some memos from his own companies, and watching Lissa all day. No one had even given him a second glance, and from her vantage point, Lissa would never even know he was there, God bless sidewalk cafes with free wi-fi. They were a stalker's best friend.

He glanced down at his laptop and pulled up google. He was still curious as to why Lissa would get so pissed off over some personal hygiene products. He entered the words bath salts into the search field and blinked in surprise when the results came up. Jesus, kids got stupider and more inventive every day with ways to kill themselves. No wonder she went ballistic. He wouldn't want that shit anywhere near his place of business either. And they were handing out free samples? To just anyone? What about little kids, he wondered, thinking of Patrick and Danny. He scowled and shook his head in disgust. What some people wouldn't do to take a buck. At least when he killed some one, he was honest about it. Several kids in different states had died and the sellers were still trying to say it was safe? And people thought he was a bastard. Go figure.


	8. Chapter 8

Natural Selection Chapter 8

A/N: Many thanks to all who reviewed. A couple of you have actually given me some inspiration to work in a couple sub plots.

"Victor, are you telling me that you are ….stalking someone," Sean asked him, her expression slightly incredulous.

He squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, refusing to meet her eyes. He cleared his throat. "Technically, I am stalking her, but it's not what you think, I promise."

"And what do you think that I am thinking?"

"I don't want to hurt her, or rape her or kill her, Sean. I promise."

Sean nodded. "I believe you, Victor. However, I would be a lot more comfortable if you would explain to me exactly what you do want with her."

"She won't get out of my head. I thought it would be easier once I knew more about her. I'm treating it like a hunt, or one of my Shield ops. I was going to use whatever I found out to get her into bed, seduce her." He paused and looked up at Sean.

"Okay, " Sean said. "Go on."

"It's like the more I find out about her, the more I want to know about her. I….Sean, this has never happened to me before. I don't even really know her, she doesn't know Jack about me and if she did she would probably run screaming."

"A-ha," Sean said softly. "So, we come to the real problem."

He raised an eyebrow. "That I am a lunatic stalker?"

"No," Sean laughed. "Well, sort of." They both chuckled for a minute. "Joking aside Victor, you're just going to have to take the same risk as the rest of us mere mortals."

He raised an eyebrow. " Huh?"

"You're afraid of being rejected. Mostly, I suspect, because this isn't just about sex. Something about this woman has gotten your complete attention. From what you told me earlier, you want to have this woman in your apartment, in your bed."

"Yeah. I have a few ideas about the shower, too."

Sean grinned. "I'll just bet you do. My point however, is that you want to invite this woman into your territory, something that you have never felt inclined to do with any of your conquests, or call girls."

"She isn't like those frails. She's classy. Smart. She doesn't smell like perfume or make-up. She's clean."

"You smelled her?" Victor nodded. " Well, what does she smell like? Candy, or food of some sort? Flowers?"

Victor shuddered. "No, thank God. It's just a clean smell. Like, I don't know how to put it in human terms really. She smells like after it rains, when the air is clear and clean."

Sean blinked. "Has anyone else ever smelled that way to you before?"

He shook his head. " I didn't even realize what I had smelled at first. I had just gotten out of the shower the first time I met her and all I could smell was crappy imitation lilac soap, and her fear. It wasn't until my second night watching her that I even caught a whiff. She was leaving the gym, heading towards her car and the wind blew her scent in my direction. I thought it was a little strange. I could smell her sweat, and her anger, but there was the underlying scent of rain."

Sean looked at him curiously. " Does everyone have their own scent?"

"Yeah. It's usually a combination of things. Body chemistry, food, clothes, what scents they pick up while working. You can tell a lot about someone from their scent."

"How do I smell? Or what do I smell like?"

"Books, cookies and your grandkids right now. But you always have this underlying scent of apples."

Sean looked at him, her head tilted. " Apples, huh? That's a little odd as I don't eat them very often."

He shrugged. " Some people only smell like the scents they pick up, some people have their own scent, and some people have both."

"How does the way she smells make you feel?"

"Really, Sean? Isn't that like a therapist cliché," he teased her.

She rolled her eyes." Just answer the question please, Victor. It could have some actual bearing on your situation."

He took a deep breath. "It's weird," he said and paused for a moment. "It's weird that you'd ask that. I have actually been thinking about that. That smell, it reminds me of something when I was much younger. Way back, from when me and Jimmy were still big brother and little brother." He paused again. Sean waited patiently, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought. " Jimmy was still just a kid. Hell, I was too, but I was older than him so it was my job to take care of us both. Anyway, we'd been on the run for a couple of months when we found this place out in the middle of nowhere. It was perfect for us. There was a whole system of caverns, they didn't go very deep into the cliff side, but they sheltered us from the elements. There was a waterfall, and a freshwater spring. We had everything we needed." He was silent for a while. He looked at Sean, his eyes piercing her." That's what the scent reminded me of. That's what she smells like."

For the past week, Lissa had been furious and anxious. Furious because the owners of the shop selling the bath salts refused to admit that they were selling a dangerous item to minors, and anxious because all week it had felt like someone was watching her. At first, she had brushed it off as her reaction to all the stress she'd been under. But now, even though she had no proof, she just couldn't shake the feeling.

She sighed and looked at her computer screen. She had been online all morning researching bath salts. She had statistics, chemical composition, side effects, and information on the marketing ploys used to sell them to minors. She'd been working on a pamphlet of sorts. Once she had it finished she was going to offer some extra hours to her employees. If they could send their employees out with a basket of free samples, then she could send her employees out there with free information.

An article had been published in the paper, but it wasn't exactly front page news. The sad truth of the matter was that the community might not sit up and take notice until there was a tragic reason to. People didn't like unpleasant truths, or the thought of dangerous drugs being available right at the village mini mall. Sometimes, it was easier to just go with the flow. Going with the flow was something she'd never been any good at, and frankly, she'd rather have an ugly truth over a pleasant lie any day.

She looked down at her work and decided it was definitely time for a break. She quickly saved her documents and then turned off her computer, One of these days, she was going to break down and get a laptop. Everyone talked about how convenient they were. Lissa had the fear that she would never stop working if she had a portable computer, or that she'd become some sort of internet junkie. The thought of being able to work on things like this virtually anywhere was tempting though.

She stood up and stretched trying to work the kinks out of her back. And neck. And legs. Jesus, how long was she sitting there, anyway? She glanced at her watch and gasped. Nine thirty! Well. She definitely wasn't making it to the gym tonight. She groaned in frustration. She needed to go to the gym. How else was she supposed to deal with all her stress? Margie, with the enthusiasm of youth had said she need to go out and find a man. Lissa had scoffed then, but now she wasn't so sure. She was definitely feeling a little pent up. Problem was, she didn't do casual sex. She never had. For her, sex was about a connection with another person, as sappy as that sounded. Maybe she could book a massage or something. All those new agers couldn't be completely wrong about the healing power of touch.

Maybe she would get lucky, and she get some hot young male masseuse. Someone with big, strong, warm hands. Someone who would work out all those kinks and turn her into a relaxed puddle of goo. Someone with a sinful, growly voice. Whoa, where had that come from? Suddenly, her mind flashed on Victor and she felt herself flush all over. Down girl, she told herself. That man is way out of your league, and even if he wasn't, he definitely didn't seem like the relationship oriented type. Besides, it's not like she was ever going to see him again. Nope, not one gorgeous inch of him. She sighed and wasn't really sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

"Victor, I have a theory of sorts to propose to you."

He leaned back in his chair. " I'm all ears," he said. " Is it a fast theory though, because this session has really cut into my stalking time."

She glared at him and he grinned, raising his hands in surrender.

"Have you ever heard of the theory of natural selection?"

He thought for a moment. "Darwin right? Goes hand in hand with survival of the fittest?"

She nodded. " The thing is Victor, no one really knows how feral mutants choose their mates. It could be pheromones, it could be facial symmetry, genetic compatibility, or a mix of all those things. What we do know though, is that when a feral chooses a mate, it is generally for life. There are some exceptions, of course, but they are very few." She paused, letting the information sink in.

He digested the information carefully, waiting for the sense of panic at being shackled to the same woman for God knows how long. When it didn't come, he could feel his heartbeat accelerate for an entirely different reason. Was it really that simple? Could he have found his mate after all this time and not even realized it? He swallowed hard. What if Sean was wrong? What if he just had some sense of nostalgia connected to her scent? Even as he thought it, he knew it wasn't so. Nostalgia didn't make you wake up hard, and jerk off at every opportunity. So back to Sean's mate theory. God, what the hell was he supposed to do? He knew how to get a woman into bed, but all the other crap? He had no clue. He clenched his jaw. He'd been watching her for a week trying to see what made her tick, what made her, her. She deserved way better that him. He might control his urges, he might be playing nice, but deep down, he was an animal. He was the stuff of nightmares. Just ask anyone he'd ever tortured or killed. Oh, that's right, you couldn't cause they were dead. Bottom line was that he destroyed everything he cared about. Jimmy was proof of that.

"Victor Creed, don't you dare," Sean cut into his dark thoughts, voice firm. " You have changed. You have become a better man."

"I'm still a killer, Sean."

"So are a lot of Shield agents, myself included, " she brusquely replied.

His jaw dropped. He looked at her as if she had grown a second head. "What? How? When?"

"Years and years ago, Victor. When I was on active duty. They called it target elimination and it was before Shield was Shield. I followed orders. We all did. And it haunts me to this day." He could see the regret in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Sean." And he was, Someone like Sean, killing would weigh on them. They would remember the faces of everyone they'd killed. He couldn't even remember all the faces. Sometimes they would just blur together like some endless murder collage.

She pulled herself together quickly, and Victor had to admire her strength a little. Sean wasn't like most women. She and Lissa would probably get along.

"Victor," she said. "I don't know this woman. I do know you. The man I know now deserves a chance at happiness."

"I don't even know where to begin," he said helplessly.

Sean smiled. "That's what I'm here for."


	9. Chapter 9

Natural Selection Chapter 9

A/N: Thank you everyone who reviewed. I truly appreciate it! Oh and a side note to Greek-Warrior-Princess: Your review was awesome and sweet. I spell Lissa with two L's because I went to high school with a girl named Melissa, but she preferred to be called Lissa. She was a good friend.

Lissa had been sleeping peacefully until she felt the bed dip slightly. She groaned and mumbled "Get off the bed, you mangy cat." Then, a thought registered in her sleep addled brain. She no longer had a cat, he had died last year and she hadn't had the heart to get a new one yet. She rolled over slowly, trying not to panic, even though her heart was beating a million miles an hour.

Opening her eyes, she could just make out the silhouette of what she assumed to be a man, given how frickin huge the person sitting next to her on the bed. What the hell should she do? Scream? Run? Attack? She had the insane urge to try all three. She lay still, her mind racing over all her options. Who was it and what did he want, anyway? She felt the first stirrings of anger to accompany her panic.

"I know you're awake, " a familiar voice rumbled.

No way, it couldn't be! "Victor," she whispered in disbelief. She slowly sat up and reached over to her night stand to turn on her light. She blinked a little, her eyes adjusting to the light. Sure enough, it was him. She stood up slowly, staring at him the whole time.

"Victor," she asked again, her voice incredulous.

"Yeah….hi," he said sheepishly.

Hi? He was in her bedroom, sitting on her bed in the middle of the night, and he was going with hi? Total fury overrode any fear she had. She grabbed a book off the night table a threw it at him. It bounced off his chest. He looked down at it, confused. "What was that for," he asked, his expression slightly confused.

She didn't even bother to try to form a coherent sentence. She just growled and threw another book at him. This one he dodged. She moved to her dresser, grabbed her least favorite knick knack and hurled it at his head. He dodged it again and said, "Hey now, be careful." His tone of voice was the one she would usually use when humoring an unruly child. Fresh anger coursed through her. "Stop moving so I can hurt you," she hissed at him. His eyes widened and he started laughing. Her eyes narrowed into slits. That's it, she decided, he was a dead man. She grabbed two knick knacks at once and threw them at the same time. One hit the wall and shattered, the other smacked him in the shoulder. Ha! Victory, she thought. It was his turn to narrow his eyes.

"Stop throwing things at me, Lissa." Now he was trying to tell her what to do? He'd broken into her house, entered her private domain, and he was giving her orders? She couldn't recall ever being so angry in her entire life, not even at the slime ball shop owners next door who were selling drugs to kids. "No," she snarled and began throwing anything she could reach. He dodged the majority of the objects, but some hit him. She looked around and realized she had nothing left to throw on her dresser. She looked around and saw a bottle of lotion that was fairly close to her on the floor. It must have bounced back after hitting something. Hopefully him, she thought spitefully. She bent quickly and retrieved it. He stood still waiting, watching her with an expression that was a mix of wariness and amusement. It was the amusement that made her throw the lotion. She had been aiming for his chest, but it hit him much lower and to the right. It hit his upper right thigh, very close to his groin. Ha! That'll show him, she thought. She heard a low growl, long and rumbling. Uh-oh. She looked at his face. Well, at least he wasn't amused anymore. He began to advance on her, still growling, Nope, definitely not amused anymore. She turned to try and flee into the living room. She made it exactly two steps before she was seized and thrown back onto her bed, where this whole bizarre episode had started.

She started to sit up, but he was suddenly there, holding her down. It only took one of his hands to hold both of her wrists. And with his weight on her, she could barely breathe, never mind move. She wiggled and flailed and bucked to the best of her ability while he seemingly effortlessly restrained her. He leaned down to try to look her in the eyes.

"Calm down, Lissa. I am not going to hurt you."

Her response was to arch her neck and sink her teeth into his shoulder. He gasped and she felt a surge of victory. She kept her teeth clamped into his shoulder. His response was to press his hips against hers and it was her turn to gasp. He was very obviously aroused. And very much pressed against her.

" Lissa," he said, his voice strained." I am trying to be good here, I really am. You need to help me out and get your teeth off me now."

She stopped biting him and he almost sagged against her in relief.

"Would you get off me," she managed to say. "You're extremely heavy."

"Will you hear me out and give me a chance to explain?"

She nodded. He pulled back a little bit to look at her.

"No more throwing things at me?"

"Fine," she agreed.

He let go of her wrists and eased his body off of hers. He helped her into a sitting position.

"If you don't mind, I'd rather have this conversation in the living room," she said.

He nodded his agreement and gestured for her to lead the way into the living room. She sat down on the with her arms wrapped around herself. He chose the overstuffed chair across from her. They regarded each other silently for a couple of minutes.

He sighed. " You already know that I'm a mutant," he stated.

She nodded, and looked at him a little curiously. Good, he thought. Curiosity was good. He could work with that and it was way better for his purposes than fear or anger.

"Okay," he said. "I am going to start at the beginning and I am going to tell you pretty much everything that I can. You will probably have lots of questions, but honestly, it's better if you wait until I have finished to ask them. I will answer them all, with complete honestly, I promise. Okay?"

She was definitely curious now. He could read it on her face and he could smell it. Please let Sean be right, he thought , and please let Lissa be able to handle all he was about to tell her.

"Okay," she said softly.

He told her everything. His childhood, running with Jimmy, taking care of Jimmy, losing Jimmy because he had allowed his animal instincts to overcome his sense of right and wrong. He told her how he had been more animal than man until the fateful mission he had completed for Shield. He told her about Sean and how she had helped him see the advantages of being a man. He didn't spare any details. He didn't try to make himself look better. He just told the truth. And at the very end of his tale, he told her about her effect on him and Sean's theory. By the time he was finished, the sun was rising.

"If you have any questions, now would be the time," he said. He couldn't bring himself to look directly at her. He felt too vulnerable. His instincts were kicking in. Fight or flight. And he never wanted to hurt her, so flight was winning. He knew it would be easy to leave, but he had to see this through.

Lissa stared at him. She honestly didn't know how to feel. The tale he had told he both confused and fascinated her. She now understood his comment in the bedroom about trying to be good. He was ruled by his instincts, he survived by them, but he was trying to be more. He was looking for his humanity. While she found that admirable, that didn't make him any less terrifying, or his stalking of her at all appropriate.

Finally she said," I have about a million questions, but I honestly don't know where to begin."

"Ask me whatever you want. I will tell you anything."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

He smirked. "I told you, I want you to understand."

"Okay Victor. First things first, I guess. What if I can't be who you want me to be?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

She sighed. "Victor, what if I can't want you the way you want me?"

He laughed. "You already want me Lissa, at least a little. I can smell that."

She gasped. "I do not," she denied hotly. He just stared at her, still smirking. She deflated and asked," You can really smell that?"

He nodded. "My nose is extremely sensitive. So is my hearing. My eyesight is above average, but my night vision is off the charts."

"So, when you say I smell like home is that a sense memory thing or what?"

He swallowed. "Sean thinks it's more like a combination of my subconscious and my dna telling me via my scent glands that you should be the one I choose, as you are most likely to be compatible genetically and pass on more of my genes."

She blinked at him stupidly for a minute. "I don't even have a response to that right now."

He chuckled. Then he said very seriously, "I would never force you, Lissa. That…. that isn't who I am any more. That isn't who I want to be."

She tilted her head at him. "But you will still kill people?"

He nodded. "It's kind of my job. I don't kill innocents anymore though. I ….Lissa, the people I kill, they are as monstrous as I am in their own way. They are people who are dangerous to good normal people."

She digested this information. Honestly she still didn't know what to do with all this. If she were smart, she'd run screaming from the room, not that it would do her much good. He was unbelievably fast.

"Is your speed a part of your mutation?"

"Yeah, and I heal too."

"Heal," she asked. " What's that mean exactly?"

He sighed. This was always the part he found the hardest to explain to anyone. "Well, you know how long ago I was born. Do I look two hundred years old to you?" She shook her head. He continued, " So once my body had reached maturity, I stopped aging. Even before that though, any injuries I got healed themselves."

"That's amazing!" She was completely astonished. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to not have to be afraid of getting hurt. Of course, she mused, there was a flip side. He wasn't getting any older, but the same didn't hold true for his friends, or comrades. Would she be able to keep her humanity if she had to watch all of her loved ones age and die? Would she even bother trying to connect with people after a while? For some odd reason, it made her think of mayflies. Mayflies only lived for about a day. Compared to him, everyone was a mayfly. What was that like for him? It was almost like, he could blink and some one else he knew, some one else he cared about was dead. How did he not go insane? Then she thought about that for a minute. He hadn't always been sane. It was like, he had lost himself and somehow, by a twist of fate or a miracle, he had found a lifeline. Sean, she realized. It was curiosity that made him work for Shield, but it was Sean who healed him and encouraged him to try to rejoin the human race. She found herself grateful to the woman, and she hadn't even met her.

She cleared her throat. " Are there others like you? People who heal?"

He shrugged. " A couple. No one as tough as me and Jimmy though." She could hear the pride in his voice when he talked about his brother.

"Do you ever think about, you know, trying to tell him? Trying to reconnect?"

He looked at her in surprise. He smiled a little bitterly. " He hates me right now. He doesn't even remember who I am, just what happened between us recently. Unless I feel the need for a really vicious sparring session, it's better if I just stay away."

Her eyes were full of sympathy. "I'm sorry," she said. She leaned forward. " I don't have any family left. In a way, you're kind of lucky. You're going to live for such a long time, it's like you have plenty of time to mend fences, build bridges, you know that sort of thing." God, she thought, could that have sounded any more trite?

"Maybe lay some foundations," he asked her teasingly.

She laughed. "Sorry, I guess I got a little weird with the analogies there."

He shook his head. "No. I understood what you were going for. Hope springs eternal, right"

She beamed at him. "Exactly! You should never give up hope!" And how strange was it that she was giving him a pep talk? He had confessed to mass murder, rape, torture and most recently, stalking, but she still had felt the need to reassure him.

She yawned. " You are so lucky it's my day off."

He smirked. "Every Sunday, you have Margie open the shop and Carol close up. You are on call for emergencies though."

"You do realize how creepy it is that you know that, right?"

He shrugged. She rolled her eyes at him.

She yawned again. "God, I am so tired." She looked at him. "Victor, I have more questions for you but I really need to get some sleep."

He nodded and then ducked his head. " Kind of a problem there."

"What? Why, " she asked.

"I just…I don't want to leave." He looked sheepish. " At least not until this is resolved. I mean , I know you want me and I definitely want you, but so far that's it. Sean says that leaving an issue unresolved is like asking for that issue to come back and bite you in the ass."

He didn't want to leave because his government mandated therapist said leaving issues unresolved was bad? Yet another thing she had no reasonable response for. Oh, there were plenty of pithy and sarcastic comments she could make, but they wouldn't help the situation. She sighed.

"Victor, it seems to me that we have two choices."

"And those would be?"

She yawned again and he chuckled. "Well, " she said, once she could speak again. "You can either camp out here, or you can sleep, and I do mean sleep mister, next to me."

He stared at her amazed. "You would let me sleep with you?"

"Next to me, " she replied. " I figure, if you're already there when I go to sleep, then I won't be woken up in a state of terror."

He rubbed the back of his neck. He looked like a chastised school boy. "Yeah, sorry about that."

She nodded her acceptance of his apology. "There are ground rules though."

"And those are?"

She pointed at him with her chin raised. "No funny business, Mister. No touching without permission, no trying to take liberties while I'm sleeping and no stealing the covers."

He grinned. "What if you give permission?"

She snorted. "Victor, I am not going to deny that you are pretty much the most attractive specimen I have ever seen, but I am like two minutes away from a sleep coma. The only thing I will give you permission to do is be an extension of my pillow."

He laughed and she smiled at him. Did he realize that this was a test of sorts? She was giving him her trust, something she didn't do very often. If he abused her trust, he wouldn't get it again, she didn't care what his scent glands and dna said about her being compatible with him.

As they made their way back to her bedroom, sheer exhaustion made her stumble. Before she could fall, he gently swept her up into his arms. God, he was strong! She was so tired that she was having trouble keeping her eyes open.

"Are you going to throw me on the bed again," she asked him sleepily.

He chuckled. "Nope. Gonna save that for later." He lay her down gently and covered her with her quilt.

He went to the other side of the bed and kicked off his shoes. He thought briefly of stripping down, but realized that she probably wouldn't be too thrilled when she woke up and he was naked. Also, it was probably better to avoid temptation.

He got into bed and stretched out as much as her bed would allow. He rolled over to face her. He felt the need for sleep too, but didn't want to right away. After, a few hours of sleep, she might be more clearheaded, and decide to throw him out. Sean would tell him not to borrow trouble, but he was so used to things not going his way, it was hard not to be negative. He sighed and gently placed one of his arms over her midsection. At least he could have this, at least he could hold her for right now.

"Victor," she murmured.

"Yeah," he replied softly, getting ready to move his arm in case she objected.

"Try not to roll over and squash me in your sleep, okay?" Her voice was sleepy, but serious.

He held back his laughter. "Okay Lissa. Go to sleep."

"M'kay, she replied. Her breath evened out and her heart beat slowed. He knew she was sleeping then. After a while, he allowed his own eyes to slip closed. They could work out the details, and he would allow her as much freedom as he could, but she was his and he wasn't letting her go.


	10. Chapter 10

Natural Selection Chapter 10

A/N: Thanks you for your reviews and constructive criticism, I appreciate both greatly. In response to a couple of those reviews, I am going to clarify a few points. 1) While I do not have the story written yet, I do have an outline that goes from beginning to end so I already know exactly what will happen at the end. 2) I always intended for there to be lots of twists and turns character wise, if not plot wise in this story, so characters may not always act as expected in each chapter. 3) I know Lissa seems to be handling everything way too well right now, but reality will set in soon for her in a major way. Not sure exactly what chapter it will happen in, but I think those of you who find Lissa to be too complacent or blasé will be a little more satisfied. 4)No relationship is without it's problems and no relationship with Victor Creed is ever going to be normal. J

This all being said, I find everyone's reviews extremely gratifying and helpful. Helpful because not only do they encourage me to keep going with the story, they also help me to see the characters and the story line from a reader's perspective. You are all awesome for reviewing!

Lissa woke up slowly. She turned over in her bed expecting to find Victor. He wasn't there. Confused, she sat up and looked around the bedroom. There were still books and knick knacks everywhere, so obviously last night had happened. Unless of course, she had had some sort of psychotic break with reality. What did it say about the situation that she almost wished that were the case? She could easily imagine what her friend and employee Carol would say. A man stalks you, breaks into your house, confesses a multitude of heinous deeds and you invite him for a nap? What the hell were you thinking? She cringed as she thought about it. Some of it realistically, she could blame on shock, but the rest? She sighed. She knew where the rest had come from, she just wondered if Victor did. How much did that dossier he had on her cover?

A sudden urge for coffee to help clear the cobwebs from her brain propelled her into the kitchen. She had expected to find Victor in there, or the living room, but he was in neither place. Instead of a dangerous, yet slightly reformed, giant of a man, she found a note on her kitchen table.

Lissa,

I know I said I wouldn't leave until we reached some sort of resolution, but Shield called. I have an emergency assignment. I will be incommunicado for the duration of the operation, but I will contact you as soon as I return.

Yours,

V.

She stared at the note. She read it three more times, hoping for some insight into this man who had pushed his way into her life. In a way she was relieved to not have to deal with him right away, but in another, she was annoyed and anxious. He would contact her? Did that mean a phone call? A meeting on neutral ground? Was he going to just show up at her house uninvited again? She sighed. She knew that some of this mess was her fault. She should have either kicked him out or made him sleep on the couch last night. Letting him into her bed had sent him a mixed message, one she didn't really intend to send.

She turned on her coffee maker and set about making herself something to eat. It was way past breakfast time, but she was one of those people who could eat breakfast at any hour of the day. She decided on eggs, bacon and whole grain toast . The smell of the bacon cooking made her stomach growl and she realized that she hadn't eaten in about sixteen hours. No wonder she was so hungry!

While she cooked, she thought about everything Victor had told her. She hadn't really had time to process it while he was there. He had said he would answer any questions she had, but honestly, most of what he had told her hadn't really sunk in. Then all the adrenaline from their fight in the bedroom had worn off and she'd been exhausted. She knew her seemingly easy compliance last night was going to cause problems later. Victor Creed was in for a rude awakening if he thought she was going to jump into some sort of relationship with him. She had been in exactly four romantic relationships in her life, and three of them had ended amicably. The one that hadn't ended amicably was the reason she hadn't dated anyone for a while. Her last boyfriend, who had proposed to her, had ended up proving to be a cheating lying asshole who thought that once they were married, Lissa would be his sugar mama, allowing him to basically lay around the apartment doing nothing, while she ran the store. She had found out by accident that he had been lying about looking for a job after he had been "let go" from the car dealership he worked for. It was shortly after that that she found out the reason he had been fired was because he had slept with his boss's daughter. The worst part of it all for her had been being lied to. She hated deception in any form. Not that she had been thrilled to find out he had cheated, but for her, the lying had hurt more. She had second guessed herself for months afterward. She had almost become a little paranoid about the world around her, expecting everyone to try and deceive her. If some one she lived with could lie to her consistently and she didn't know, then couldn't anyone? It had taken months to get back to some semblance of normal and now this. This definitely wasn't normal. What was she supposed to do anyway, call the police? He worked for Shield for God's sake! Shield was a part of homeland security, in point of fact they trumped homeland security and her local police department was supposed to do what,? Arrest him? Could they even do that? Did they have the authority? And even if they did, would Victor actually let them? Would she be consigning someone who had vowed to protect and serve to a bloody end? She sighed and rubbed her temples. This whole situation was insane.

Lissa was not a selfish person by nature, but she wasn't a martyr either. She had learned to use her wits to survive and take care of herself early on. She'd had to. She knew she would do whatever it took to try and survive. Some people might think her cowardly because of that, but she knew differently. As long as you were alive, there was hope that your situation could change. She was proof of that.

Victor had been beyond pissed when his vibrating cell phone had woken him. When he had seen that the call was from his handler at Shield, he was even more angry. He realized his anger wasn't at all rational. Shield was his employer, if they were calling him it was for business reasons, not to shoot the shit.

Now he was on an emergency extraction operation. Some idiot kids had wandered into the wrong night club in Israel and had been recognized as having high profile parents. Normally, negotiations would take place and ransoms would be paid and that would be the end of it. The problem was that the kids had been taken by some Taliban jack offs who had been planning to blow up the night club to make some sort of statement when they had seen the American college students and changed their plans. He wondered what sort of statement the terrorists had thought they were making by blowing up the Israeli discothèque. Disco sucks? And seriously, with the current situation in the middle east, why the hell would anyone jaunt off to Israel right now? Sure, it was a beautiful country, and the people were mostly friendly, but they were currently involved in a billion year war with their neighbors.

The situation was complicated by the fact that two of the kid's parents were in positions of power in Washington. They had also been recently photographed with their families, hence the terrorists recognizing the most likely overly entitled youths. The terrorists weren't asking for money either. They wanted to trade the kids for some of their people. Obviously, that wasn't going to happen. The United States had a policy of not negotiating with terrorists, regardless of the reason.

Shield had been notified of the situation twelve hours ago. They had called him eight hours ago and he and a team of six had been deployed five hours ago. The plan sounded simple enough, He and the rest of his team were going to be dropped off roughly two miles from the Gaza strip. Their contact, who was with Israeli intelligence, had information on where the terrorists and the kids were believed to be holed up. Kids. He kept calling them kids, but the oldest was twenty one. Back when he was a kid the average twenty one year old was already married with kids and established in some sort of job. Now though, it seemed like childhood was extended for anyone who didn't choose some sort of military or public service position at eighteen. He sighed to himself about the general unfairness and stupidity of the world.

He had tried to refuse this mission, but Fury had said he was the only one he trusted to get the job done. The mission had two objectives: retrieve the hostages and eliminate the terrorists. Fury did not want a single one of them left alive once the rescue portion was taken care of.

The timing was horrible though. He had been sleeping next to her, completely relaxed for the first time in forever. Her scent had surrounded him and he had felt completely calm and at peace. He knew it was too good to be true, He knew that when he got back, things weren't going to be easy. She was going to have time to think about all of the things he had told her. She would come to the same conclusion that he had: He was not a good man. In point of fact, he was the opposite. He was a scary motherfucker who had no right to try and involve himself in her life. Unfortunately for her, he couldn't bring himself to care about that. He needed her. He needed her like he had never needed any other woman in his long life. He knew that inflicting his will and himself on her was wrong, but he didn't have a choice. Right or wrong, now that he had met her, now that he had lain beside her, he couldn't be without her. He knew Sean would be completely disappointed in him for discounting Lissa's feelings and hell, her constitutional rights for that matter, but there was only some much Victor could do to fight against the will of the beast inside of him. He didn't know what would happen if someone tried to separate him from Lissa, but her knew it wouldn't be good. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her, or to see that look of horror he had seen on so many other people's faces. He could only hope that she would eventually choose to be with him because he honestly wasn't sure if he was strong enough to tell the beast to fuck off, and let her go.

She had finished eating and was absentmindedly cleaning up her kitchen when her phone rang. Her heart thumped in her chest. It couldn't be him already, could it? Just calm down, she told herself. Just be calm and firm. Try to sound like you're in control even if you're not. She took a deep breath and answered her phone.

"Hello?"

"Lissa, it's Carol. Have you seen the news today?"

She frowned. "No, why?"

"Turn to channel seven," Carol ordered.

Lissa rushed into the living room, quickly turned on the television and turned to the proper channel.

The on scene reporter had a grave expression on her face as she said, "This is Porter Prescott reporting from outside Berkeley General Hospital, where two teenagers have just been rushed here from a slumber party. They were apparently experimenting with a new designer drug called Bath Salts, and either had an extremely adverse reaction, or overdosed. While the doctors can't release any information, one of the teen's parents has revealed that at least one of them is in critical condition. "

Lissa gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. She barely heard the reporters next words.

" The city council had been informed of a possible problem earlier this month by a concerned small business owner, but had been unable to take steps because there was no current legislation regarding Bath Salts. There will be an emergency city council meeting tomorrow to discuss what measures can be taken to protect the community from this threat. In the meantime, teenagers are urged not to try this dangerous product with the very misleading name. Regardless of what it says on the label, there is nothing natural about this product. Parents and teenagers are both urged to visit both and bath_salt_ for a list of the dangerous ingredients and their effects."

This had been Lissa's worst fear. Her heart went out to the parents to the parents of both teens.

"Carol," she said shakily." Close up early. I don't want anyone near that shop next door. Who knows what is going on there? None of the other businesses are open, just us and New World Organics. If we're closed, maybe less people will hang around. Then those pricks will have less chances to try and hand out free samples of their poison to kids."

"Okay Lissa," Carol said. "Call me if you need anything."

"I will Carol, thanks for calling me and letting me know about this."

Lissa hung up the phone, feeling the beginnings of a killer migraine. Her life had been wonderfully drama free for months, and now this. She immediately chastised herself for having such selfish thoughts. Yeah, the situation with Victor affected her personally, but the situation with the Bath Salts, while annoying wasn't really about her.

She could feel the anger building inside of her. She was always angriest when she felt powerless to do anything. She couldn't stop them from selling drugs to children. She couldn't stop Victor from stalking her, and while he said he wouldn't force her, she knew first hand what monsters men could be. Her stomach turned and clenched. She pushed the memories away. There was no point in making herself sick. She took slow deep breaths. She wasn't completely powerless, she told herself. She had options. She just had to come up with a workable plan.

If she did end up being his mate or whatever, it wouldn't be the worst fate. As she thought that, she realized that she was still attracted to him. Even with all he had done, and all she knew he was still capable of doing, she still felt a flash of heat when she remembered him in his towel. Even more so when she thought about what was underneath that towel. It doesn't matter, she thought, I am not lead by my libido. Maybe that could become her new mantra.


	11. Chapter 11

Natural Selection Chapter 11

A/N: This chapter may get a little weird, not really sure how people will feel about it. This is also my longest chapter so far, and if this works better for people, then I will continue to try to do longer chapters.

It had been eight days since her encounter with Victor. He hadn't called, he hadn't stopped by and if she was being completely honest with herself, she was conflicted about the whole thing. She had had time to think about the situation and had really only come to three conclusions. One: she was wildly (and unfortunately) attracted to Victor Creed. Two: If there was to be anything between them, ever, there would have to be very strict ground rules, and it would have to be on _her _terms not his. Three: If they were together (whatever that meant) and he ever hurt a woman or a child again, she was gone. No matter what. She couldn't change his past, couldn't help the already dead or traumatized, but she could protect all the ones in the future, even if that meant putting herself at risk.

She had always been practical and as a friend of hers had put it, almost fatally realistic. She knew Victor was a killer. He had admitted it. He had laid all his sins at her feet the same way her cat used to bring her dead mice as a present. He had much the same attitude about it too- here you go Lissa, this is yours to deal with now. And the infuriating thing about it was that she would deal with it. Adapt and survive. That was just her nature, the same way that being a predator was Victor's.

Shield hadn't changed Victor's nature, it had just sort of molded it a little. She wondered if she could do the same thing. Not change him, because seriously, no one could really change anyone. You could be a motivating force, or a catalyst, but no one would changed unless they were ready too. However, the fact that Shield had been able to nudge Victor in one direction or another was encouraging. It could mean that she too could, well maybe not control Victor, but steer him a little? He had said that he only killed "bad" people, if she could encourage him to keep to that, and add an absolutely no innocent people clause, did that somehow make her an accessory to murder, and with the type of vermin he was exterminating, did she really care?

She sighed gustily. Her world had never been black and white. She really wondered what was in that dossier. Did he know anything about her childhood? That she had been taken away by that state and then raised by a series of foster families? Did the dossier contain the doctor's reports from that time? One of her nicer foster mothers had helped her to legally change her last name when she was sixteen, so it was entirely possible that none of this information was in the dossier at all. She smiled a little bitterly. Maybe if he actually turned up it would be her turn to lay a bunch of horrifying information at his feet. Here you go Victor, this is yours to deal with now. Maybe he wouldn't want her anymore.. The thought brought another round of mixed feelings to the surface. Sure it solved her dilemma, but it stung a little too. She remembered several families not willing to take her in for fear that she might be too damaged. Damaged goods. How long had it been since she had thought of herself that way? Anger spiked through her. This was all his fault!

Eight days. Eight fucking days since he had seen her, spoken to her, or God, smelled her. That scent, that feeling of home and peace and things that meant he wasn't just a fucked up monster- he needed it desperately now. This mission that was supposed to be cut and dry, easy in -easy out, had gone sideways fast. Their Mossad contact had been late, and then had told them they had to wait to go in or they would be jeopardizing a Mossad operation. Like he gave a fuck about that, but Shield did, so they waited. They waited and because of the lack of response from the government, or any of the kids parents, the terrorists had killed one of the kids. Not one of the kids connected to anyone important, no of course not, he thought bitterly to himself. They picked the least important kid to kill. The one who was a no one. The one who's parents had no money, fame or influence. He was nineteen years old, just the roommate of one of the rich kids who decided to slum it in the dorms that semester. He was putting himself through college and had been working his ass off. Victor knew this because they had been given information on all the hostages. He knew exactly why they had chosen to kill this kid. It was simply to make a point. See, we're capable of making good on our threats, but we aren't going to kill one of your precious little darlings until we have to. The kid's name was Peter Gold, Pete to his friends and family. It didn't matter now, because Pete had been made just another martyr to a cause no one really understood. Christ, if you asked either side why they were fighting, you got a million different reasons, and none of them made a whole lot of sense to him.

Victor gritted his teeth for the eightieth time in an hour and tried to listen as one of his team answered the questions of some trumped up general who had more stars than sense. He knew that it was standard procedure after a mission, he knew it was necessary, but all he wanted to do was get it done and get gone. He wanted, no he needed to get to Lissa. They hadn't really had time to discuss things before he had to leave and the highlights reel of his life he had given hadn't been pretty. No, it definitely hadn't been pretty, but it hadn't been everything either. He knew he was a monster, but he wasn't _just a monster. He was never going to be Prince Charming, but there were other facets to him. He wasn't just a dumb animal. There were things he could offer to Lissa. His protection, for one. No one, and he meant no one could harm her without having to deal with him now. And really, who would be crazy enough to want to piss him off? Okay, there was Jimmy, but Jimmy wasn't the type to go around hurting women, amnesia or no amnesia._

"_Creed, in your opinion, at what point did you decide that killing all of the terrorists was acceptable," General Dumb Shit asked._

_Victor blinked in surprise. Of all the questions he had been expecting, that wasn't even on the list. His team's mission objectives had been made clear to him from the start. He was about to reply when Fury cut in._

"_The orders came from me, and they were explicit. Team Voodoo was to take no prisoners and leave no enemies alive." Fury looked at the General and then to the members of Team Voodoo that were still alive._

_He continued." The objectives were successful rescue and extraction, followed by interrogation and execution of all those found in the building with the hostages."_

_The general sputtered," You don't have the authority to-"_

_Fury cut him off again. "Actually, I do. Shield has the authority to take any action it sees fit to maintain the security of our nation. And even if I didn't have the authority, my orders came from higher up than you." Fury slid a closed file across the table to the general. The general sneered at him as he opened it. His face paled as he read the contents. He closed the folder and slid it back to Fury. Standing up quickly, the general addressed the room. "We're done here," he said, his voice harsh. He and the rest of his cronies exited the room. _

"_What the hell was in that file, Fury?" Victor was beyond curious at this point. He had never seen someone with so many miscellaneous stars, bars and stripes back down so quickly._

_Fury chuckled derisively. "Nothing you want to know , Creed. Besides, it's way above your pay grade." _

_Victor snorted and followed Fury and the rest of Team Voodoo out of the room. His pace quickened when he realized he could finally call Lissa._

_Lissa had already closed the store for the evening and was doing her biweekly inventory when her cell phone rang. Dread and curiosity warred within her. For a few moments she just stared at her cell phone. The display said unknown caller, but she knew who it was. She answered on the fifth ring. _

"_Hello?" She struggled to keep her voice even._

"_Lissa," Victor purred._

_She could feel her heart beat accelerate. She swallowed hard. It was unfair that just his voice could get a reaction out of her when they hadn't even kissed yet. _

"_You're back," she stated as tonelessly as possible._

_He chuckled." Yeah. Did you miss me?"_

"_I don't know," she replied._

"_Well, that's better than a no I guess."_

_She smiled a little. "Where are you?"_

_He sighed. " I am about two hours a way. I'm calling to see if I can stop over tonight. To see you."_

_She blinked rapidly. That was completely unexpected. He was asking to see her? "You….you're asking permission?"_

_She could almost hear his teeth gritting as he replied. " I didn't want to just show up again. You didn't like it so much the last time and," he paused._

"_And what," she prodded._

"_I want you to want to see me," he said quietly._

_She was quiet for a moment, thinking. _

"_Lissa?"_

"_I am at the store doing inventory right now. I usually don't finish that until two or so. If you wanted to, you could come by here." She bit her lip. Was she really going to invite him further into her life? Now would be the perfect time to tell him thanks, but no thanks. Maybe it was the simple sincerity in his voice when he said he wanted her to want to see him. Maybe she had just finally lost her marbles._

"_Are you by yourself," he asked._

"_Yes, why?" Okay, now she was a little worried. What did he think was going to happen tonight? _

"_You shouldn't be by yourself, Lissa. That neighborhood has taken a serious downturn in the past few weeks." His tone was quiet and concerned._

_She sighed. "I know. It's because of the new owners of the shop next door. They started out like any other organic food store, but recently they've started selling this drug called-"_

"_Bath salts," he cut in. "Yeah, I know."_

"_You do," she asked, surprised._

" _Yeah," he confirmed. " I kind of watched you bully that kid into giving up all those samples."_

"_Oh, " she said a little lamely._

_He chuckled. " You're a fierce little thing."_

"_I am not little," she denied hotly._

_His chuckles turned into laughter. "Baby doll, you are barely average height. I have a least a foot and almost two hundred pounds on you."_

"_I am perfectly average sized, you are just a behemoth," she said primly. Much to her annoyance, this only made him laugh harder._

"_Behemoth," he said, still laughing. "Who even talks like that?"_

_She sighed in defeat. Her shoulders slumped a little. "Apparently, I do."_

_His laughter died down a little. "Behemoth," he said again softly. He chuckled again. " Thanks, Lissa. You have no idea how much I needed that."_

"_What," she asked, puzzled._

"_To laugh," he said his tone serious again._

_Considering what he had told her about some of his experiences in the military, she wasn't surprised he needed some relief._

"_Was it a bad mission," she asked, unsure of the correct terminology. _

_He was quiet for a few moments and she was sure that he was going to tell her it was classified or on a need to know basis or some other cliché she had seen in one of the few war movies she watched._

"_It wasn't good," he said finally._

"_Are you okay?"_

_He chuckled darkly. "I'm fine, baby doll. Nothing's managed to kill me yet."_

"_Not really what I meant, Victor,' she said gently. He was silent again. She could hear him breathing, so she knew he hadn't hung up. Should she press her luck?_

"_Do you want to talk about it?"_

_He snorted softly. "You sound like Sean."_

"_Um…..thank you?" That seemed a safe enough reply. He obviously respected Sean and from what he had told her, the woman didn't take a lot of crap from Victor or anyone else._

"_We lost some of our guys. We killed all of the bad guys, but not before someone who didn't deserve to die got killed. That's really all I can tell you. I would tell you more if I could, but it's classified." _

_Ha! She knew that phrase was going to come up sooner or later. "I know there's a lot you can't tell me about what you do for Shield. I understand."_

"_Thank you, " he said softly. "You've got all the doors locked right?"_

"_Yes, Victor." Her tone was amused._

"_I am just checking, woman." _

_She rolled her eyes. " I've been taking care of myself for a long time, you know."_

_Not compared to him she hadn't, but she was a grown woman. _

_He sighed. " I know. I just don't like you being there alone."_

_She snorted. "Yeah, well I don't like you talking on your cell phone and driving. You'll live through a wreck, but will the other drivers?"_

"_You may have a point there," he said. "I am doing well over the speed limit right now."_

"_Oh, that's marvelous," she said sarcastically. "I am hanging up now. Call me when you get here and I will unlock the door for you."_

"_Yes dear," he teased her. She hung up first. He hung up and tossed his phone onto the passenger seat. He was only an hour away now. Less if he really put the pedal down. He grinned and pressed his foot down on the accelerator. He'd be there in a half hour tops._

_Lissa looked around the store. Her closer had helped her clean up, so it was presentable enough. She couldn't help feeling nervous though. Maybe she should have told him they could meet for lunch tomorrow instead. Then they would be meeting in public and on neutral territory. Also, simply by gauging his reaction to such a request, she could have seen how willing he was to take her lead. Why did she always think of these things after the fact?_

_She wondered what he expected tonight. If he expected any kind of sex, he was in for disappointment. They hadn't been on a date, they hadn't even kissed yet, regardless of the fact that they had slept next to each other. And why did she keep thinking about kissing him? That was the last thing she should be thinking about! In fact, kissing was to be avoided at all costs, no matter how full his bottom lip looked. No matter how good at kissing he probably was. She groaned. What was wrong with her? She was not supposed to be thinking of kissing him, or doing anything else with him._

_She moved around the store, scanning books and making notations in her notebook. Inventory was what she should be doing, not thinking about his mouth, or his chest, or how he had felt when he was pressed against her. Stop it, she told herself. Just stop it. This can't go anywhere, you know what kind of man he is. He's violent, and while it might not be directed towards you right now, there are no guarantees for the future. She knew that if he decided that they were going to be together, than she would have very little choice in the matter, He had said he wouldn't force her sexually, but she didn't think that that translated into letting her just get on with her life, or see anyone else. She knew that if she had to, she could live with him being in her life, maybe not thrive, but she could survive. _

_The fact that she was attracted to him and wanted him sexually, not only confused her, it made planning for an adapt and survive situation difficult for her. She felt a bit guilty about her feelings towards him. It was like on the one hand, she felt ashamed of herself for even being attracted to someone who could commit the atrocities that he had, and on the other hand, she felt bad for not giving him a chance because he was trying to be, well, good probably wasn't the right word. Less evil, maybe? More humane? She sighed and scanned more books._

_Victor looked at the speedometer and realized he was driving ninety miles an hour in a sixty five mile an hour zone. He debated pushing the pedal down further, than squashed the urge. He wanted to see her, but the drive would give him a little time to think, a little time to get his head together. _

_When he left the base in New York, he hadn't even changed out of his fatigues, he had just hopped in his truck and drove. He realized twenty minutes in that he was driving to her and remembered her reaction to him showing up in her bedroom. He called her cell and had hoped she would be home, but as luck would have it, she was stuck doing inventory. Maybe it was better that they were meeting at the store. Less temptation for him that way. He just hoped he could keep his hands off her tonight, or if he couldn't then he hoped that she wouldn't freak out and hate him for it. It wasn't like he was planning on tearing her clothes off, and taking her on her cash register counter or anything (although, that idea was interesting enough to file away for the future), but he really wanted to touch her again. He wanted to pull her close and just breathe her in. He wanted to taste her mouth and kiss her until she was breathless. He wanted to twine his tongue around hers and feel her tongue dancing with his. He felt himself getting hard. Okay, time to think about other things. Showing up with a hard on was definitely not a good idea. _

_He focused on driving and not thinking about sex. He found himself curious about what Lissa had done while he was gone. That was new for him, because he usually could care less about things like that. Sean would say that he was becoming less anti social. He figured that it was just how he felt about Lissa, because he still didn't really care about other people. He knew Lissa had had plenty of time to come up with questions for him, and he had some for her too. There were lots of holes in the dossier he had on her. It didn't tell him what foods she liked, what kind of movies she watched, or any of her personal beliefs. Stalking her hadn't really given him these answers either. He'd only learned her routine. He found himself wanting to know these things, not just so he could seduce her, but so he could make her happy. He wondered if that was because on some subconscious level, he knew if he could make her happy, she was more likely to stay with him. He snorted. He kept thinking things like that, but really, they weren't even together yet. For all he knew, she was going to greet him with a can of mace and a stun gun. Still, he had to try, if for no other reason than the peace he felt around her, even when she was throwing things at him._

_Lissa was in the teen fiction section when she heard someone at the front door of the store. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket to see of she had managed to somehow miss a call. Nope. Well, that was a little odd, Victor had said he would call when he got there. Oh well. She shrugged and walked towards the front of the store. About half way there, she realized it wasn't Victor. There were two people peering into her closed shop. She quickly ducked behind a bookcase, hoping that whoever they were, they hadn't seen her. She had about half the lights on so maybe they would think that there was no one here. She flipped open her phone, and pressed nine and then one. She could press the other one if it turned out she needed to. Maybe they were just customers who didn't realize the shop was closed. She peeked around the corner. She gasped when she realized that one of them was the one of the owners of the shop selling the bath salts. She didn't know the other guy. She could hear their voices through the glass, even though it was muffled. They were discussing whether or not she was in there. She looked down a her phone. Should she finish dialing nine one one? Better safe than sorry right?_

_Before she pressed in the final number, she heard the shop owner calling to her through the glass._

"_I know you're in there," he called out. " You might as well come out and open the door." Like hell, she thought. She keyed in the final number and pressed send. She waited for emergency services to pick up._

_She peeked around the corner again. They pulled and pushed at the door. Of course it's locked, you morons, she thought. _

"_You have reached emergency services for Berkeley Heights and Ashton. Our operators are busy assisting other callers. Please stay on the line. We will assist you as soon as possible," a recorded voice said in her ear. She stared at her phone in disbelief. Were they frickin' kidding her? Well, so much for that idea. She didn't hang up though._

"_Open the door," the guy from the shop next door said. For the life of her, she couldn't remember his name. What was it? Craig? No, it was Greg. Well, at least now she had a name she could give the police. She heard one of them kick the door. She breathed a sigh of relief when the glass didn't break. _

"_We just want to talk to you," Greg said. Yeah right, she thought. She looked down at her phone and decided to put in on speaker mode. She might need her hands free to defend herself. She peeked around the corner again. The other guy had walked away. She wondered where he had gone to. He might be trying the back door, but she wasn't too worried about that. It was a steel security door. It was highly unlikely anyone could break that down. Well, maybe someone Victor's size could. She almost wished he were here right now. She wouldn't be hiding behind a bookcase then, she would be hiding behind him while waiting for emergency services to pick up._

_She could hear two male voices talking again. Apparently, Greg's partner in crime was back. Wonderful. She wondered if she could make it to her office without them seeing her. Probably not. _

"_You should have just opened the door, bitch," Greg yelled._

_She heard something hit the glass hard and then the sound of glass shattering. Damn it! She looked out and saw that her glass door had been obliterated. The two dirt bags stepped through the door. The guy with Greg, whose name she didn't know, was holding a steel baseball bat. Great._

_She scooted further back hoping to stay out of sight. Her only advantage was that she knew the layout of the store. If she could make it to her office, she could use her desk to barricade the door until help arrived. If she couldn't make it to her office, maybe she could make it to the storage room up in the loft. She didn't like her odds, though. There were two of them, which meant that they could split up. She glanced at her phone. She had now been on hold for four minutes. She shook her head in disgust. Neither Berkeley Heights or Ashton were large towns. While she understood that they only had so many people working the switchboard, but how many emergencies could they possibly be having right now?_

_She knew she had to move. If she stayed where she was, they would definitely find her. She shuddered. No one who used a steel baseball bat to gain entry to your place of business just wanted to have a friendly chat._

_Victor had managed to turn a roughly two hour drive into a half hour one. Of course, he had broken several laws to do so , but still, it meant he would be with Lissa in about ten minutes. He took the turn off and began to slow down. Now that he was driving in town, he couldn't risk speeding. Not only was there a higher chance of encountering police, he knew Lissa wouldn't appreciate him driving recklessly in a populated area. _

_While he had been driving, he had made a list of all the reasons that she should give him a chance. It went as follows: He would protect her always, so long as there was breath in his body. He could provide for her if necessary. He respected her career and business acumen , and would support any decisions she made in those avenues, but should she need financial help, he was definitely in a position to provide it. He would never harm her. If he had to, he would go somewhere to blow off steam, but he would not allow himself to harm her. He would see to her needs. Whether it was food, shelter, comfort or sex, he would make sure all of those needs were met. He would be faithful. _

_Hopefully, she would actually let him tell her all the reasons he would make a good mate instead of just screaming her head off and throwing things at him. Oh God, he was meeting her at the store, where she had an almost unlimited supply of ammo. That's okay, he told himself. He was a trained soldier. Duck and cover. Repeat if necessary._

_She had managed to evade them by ducking between shelves and scooting around corners, keeping just ahead of them , or behind them. That had worked fine for about ten minutes, then they got smart and decided to do the thing she had been dreading- they split up. It was a smart move for them, it was a pain in the ass for her. Before, she could just pick a direction opposite of wherever they were headed, but now she had to watch them both. She had been lucky so far, but she had no idea how long her luck would hold. She had thought about trying to make a break for the front door and trying to make it to the pub down the street, but she wasn't sure if she could out run them. They were currently between her and the entryway to her office, as well as the stairs leading to the loft. Oh, and the best part? She had forgotten to charge her phone this morning, and it was now dead. It had died while she was on hold with emergency services. She supposed she could throw it a them if she got desperate enough. Throwing things at people seemed to be her signature move. She almost giggled at the thought. The tension of the situation must be getting to her. _

"_I know she's in here," Greg snarled._

"_Are you sure," his partner asked._

"_Her car's still in the lot. The only place open is the pub, and she doesn't hang out there."_

_They were quiet as they kept looking for her._

"_Fuck this," Greg said. He moved toward her front counter and began shoving things off it. She winced at the sound of her cash register hitting the floor. No way that was going to be operational tomorrow. Greg's friend started pushing over some of the smaller bookshelves. Books toppled to the floor and the shelves followed. They started laughing._

"_That should draw her out," Greg's friend said._

_She forced herself to stay still. They couldn't see her from their vantage point and since she knew she couldn't make an escape, she didn't see a point in revealing her hiding place. If they wanted to catch her, they were going to have to work for it. And when they caught her, well, these guys weren't Victor, so maybe she could do a little damage of her own to them before they hurt her. And speaking of Victor, this would be an awesome time for her own personal psychopath to make an appearance. She listened as they pushed more shelves over and kicked fallen books around._

_He turned onto the street leading to Lissa's store. It would be the first time he actually went inside. He hoped she would let him explore a little. He had taken the virtual tour on the web page but that wasn't the same. He knew how much time and effort she had put into her business. Whether she realized it or not, the way she decorated, and even the stores layout said a lot about her. _

_He knew from her dossier that she had been accepted into graduate school. She had chosen to start her business instead. She had started out in a much smaller space, but her very obvious love of books had earned her a loyal clientele base. After two years she had decided to move into a larger space, in order to be able to carry a more diverse selection, as well as more of each title. It had seemed like a risky move for the fledgling business owner, but it had worked for her. She had good instincts and a very practical nature. As someone who had two businesses himself, he was impressed with her competence. _

_He was a block away from her store when he was stopped by a red light. He sat there drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. This had to be the longest red light he had ever seen._

_Lissa sprinted across the aisle. Her hiding place in the biography section had been great until they had decided to start playing giant dominoes with the larger free standing shelves. When her hiding place had started to fall on her, she had had no choice but to move. _

"_There," Greg yelled excitedly. She turned to see Greg pointing a finger at her. He and his friend started running towards her. Luckily for her, their movements were impeded by the mess they had made. She was actually doing quite well until she tripped over a copy of the Foot Book by Dr. Seuss. _

_Greg managed to grab her arm before she could get completely to her feet. He shoved her back down onto the floor. He kicked her in the stomach as she tried to get up. He had managed to kick her in just the right place to knock the wind out of her, and make her feel nauseas simultaneously. She lay on her side trying to get her breath back._

_Greg leaned down and almost spit in her face as he spoke. "You owe me some money. All those samples? I had to pay for that shit."_

_She knew it was stupid, but she couldn't resist. "Then why were you giving them away for free," she asked._

_He snarled and grabbed her by her hair and slammed her head against the floor twice._

_Okay Lissa, no more antagonizing the drug dealing scum bag from next door, she thought to herself as she saw stars._

"_You're gonna get me that money, bitch. Those samples cost me five grand, and you're going to pay me back," Greg said._

_Lissa chose to utilize her new policy of not antagonizing drug dealing scum bags and didn't reply. She wondered if he really thought she was going to give him the money. Seriously, he breaks into her shop and attacks her, and what? She's supposed to be scared enough not to report him to the police for breaking and entering and assault? He was probably used to being able to bully other dirt bags who weren't able to go to the police because they were doing something illegal themselves. She had no such trouble though. The absolute second she could, she was calling the police. Not that it had done her much good the first time she called them._

"_First I'm gonna teach you a lesson. Gonna teach you to mind your own God Damned business," he snarled hatefully. Well, that didn't sound good. _

"_Randy, hand me the bat," he said. Her entire body tensed and her heart hammered in her chest. No lesson taught with a baseball bat was a lesson she wanted to learn._

_Victor pulled up to the curb in front of Lissa's shop. His head lights shined on the store front and he saw the broken glass door._

"_What the fuck?" He threw the truck into park and jumped out of the truck, not bothering to close the door. He sprinted towards the door. He didn't pause as he went through the wrecked door. He glanced around surveying the damage and looking for Lissa._

_He saw her and the two so called men standing over her. One was standing over her holding a bat, the other was pressing his heel down onto her chest to hold her down. He growled loudly and Lissa turned to look at him. She was bleeding somewhere on her head , and blood was running onto her face. The bastard had already hit her with the bat. He tamped down the urge to leap over and bring them both down, claws tearing into their flesh. There was too great a chance of injuring Lissa further. She was already hurt, he didn't want to be the cause of any more pain for her._

"_Lissa," he rumbled out. _

_She had a glazed look in her eye as she smiled at him. "Victor," she said softly. She chuckled a little. "You guys are so screwed," she said. Then her eyes rolled up in her head and she passed out._

"_Who the fuck are you," dead man number one asked. Victor just smiled at him and came stalking forward._

"_Hey man, back off. You don't want to get hurt, this has nothing to do with you," said dead man number two. Victor started laughing._

"_You think you can hurt me you little shit," Victor sneered. He stepped closer and extended his claws fully. He made sure they could see his fangs. _

_Dead man number one pointed the bat at him." Alright freak, have it your way." His partner tried to move behind Victor, either to flank him or distract him. Dead man number one swung the bat at Victor and he just let it hit him. He actually heard a metallic clinking sound as the bat rebounded off his skull. He wondered if it was worse for Jimmy on account of that metal shit he had fused to his skull. He felt his skin split open and then heal rapidly._

_Victor yanked the bat out of the surprised man's hands and tossed it across the store. Then he did the same with the bat's wielder. Dead guy number two had apparently realized that he was no match for Victor. He was currently backing away with his hands raised in surrender. Victor sneered at him in disgust._

"_What's the matter shit head? Only comfortable taking on women half your size?"_

_Dead man number two made as if to run for the door. He tripped over one of the books on the floor and Victor kicked him in the ass as he fell forward. The man's clumsiness and Victor's boot to the as sent him head first onto the marble tile. There was a mild cracking sound, and he man went still._

_Both threats taken care of, he immediately turned his attention to Lissa. He knelt beside her and gently touched her face. He found the wound on her scalp and grimaced. That was definitely going to need stitches. He was running his hands gently down her ribs when she came to._

"_Victor," She whispered._

_He tried to smile at her reassuringly. "Don't move, okay. I am trying to check that nothing's broken. Can you tell me where it hurts?"_

_She thought for a moment cataloguing her injuries. "Well, my head's the worst. He got me with the bat. Um….he kicked me in the stomach, but I think that that just kind of knocked the wind out of me. My chest hurts a little, oh and the back of my head from when he slammed it on the floor."_

_Victor tried not to let his anger show on his face as she listed her injuries. She needed his help, not his rage._

"_Okay Lissa, I don't think anything is broken, but we should get you to the hospital just to be sure. I am going to help you get into a sitting position first. If you feel any pain, tell me and we'll stop, okay?"_

_She nodded and he slowly and gently eased her into a sitting position. "Okay," he asked her._

"_Yeah, I am a little dizzy though."_

_He peered at her eyes. " I can't really tell in this light, but you could have a concussion. Did you want to call an ambulance or did you want me to drive you?"_

_She snorted and he looked at her in surprise. " I was on hold with emergency services when my cell phone died."_

"_You're fucking kidding me," he said in disbelief._

_She shook her head. "Unfortunately, I am not. So if you don't mind driving me, I'll take my chances with you, speed demon or not." _

"_I'll try to keep it under a hundred," he said dryly._

_She shifted her body to try and stand. A wave of nausea and dizziness overtook her._

"_Whoa, easy there. Want me to carry you?" He was careful to ask and not just swoop her up in his arms._

_She nodded. "Just go slow," she said. "I feel like I might throw up." He grimaced. He could eviscerate someone, remove limbs, or literally tear out someone's heart, but puke? Puke grossed him out. Always had._

_She smiled at his facial expression. "I'll try not to, just thought I should warn you."_

"_Don't worry about it," he said gruffly, a little embarrassed._

_He slowly lifted her from the floor and for the second time she found herself feeling completely safe in a monster's arms._


	12. Chapter 12

Natural Selection Chapter 12

A/N: I have an outline for this story from beginning to end, but getting the chapters written is harder than I thought it would be. I promise the smut and the sexy times are coming soon,

It turned out that the people at Emergency Services weren't just incompetent slackers. When they arrived at the hospital, it turned out that there had been a huge pile up in Ashton. It had involved eight cars and sixteen people were injured.

Luckily, there were more doctors available than ambulances and Lissa was seen fairly quickly. The doctor who took care of her declared her ribs to be bruised, but not broken. He gave her a local and stitched her scalp. He declared that she did indeed have a concussion, and that she had the choice of staying overnight for observation, or staying with a friend. She wasn't allowed to sleep for the next six hours, and after that she had to be woken every two. She wanted to cry when she heard that. All she wanted to do is sleep, her whole body ached and she always used sleep as an emotional escape.

Victor had turned his back to give her some privacy while the doctor examined her, but he had refused the doctor's suggestion to leave the room. He wasn't going to leave Lissa's side anytime soon. He was relieved that her ribs weren't broken. Ribs took a long time to heal and you had to be careful so they didn't break further and puncture something.

A police officer had come to take Lissa's statement. They had found Greg unconscious, and the other guy, Randy, was in intensive care. Victor was a little disappointed that he hadn't killed at least one of them. Oh well, maybe later. The police had asked him a few pointed questions, but hadn't tried to hold him on anything. When the cop left, Victor called Shield to let them know what was going on. If they tried to arrest him, or charge him with anything, Shield would send someone to let the local law enforcement know what was what.

Finally, they were alone. He really had no idea what to say to her. He had the insane urge to apologize to her for not getting there sooner. He wanted to hold her, but wasn't sure if she would welcome that.

"I want to go home," she blurted out suddenly.

He blinked. "Okay."

"Can you drive me," she asked a little uncertainly.

"Of course." What did she think? He was just going to let her concussed ass go home in a taxi and probably fall asleep on the way home?

Lissa pressed the call button to get a nurse. She asked if the nurse could see about discharging her. Yes, she knew she shouldn't sleep for the next six hours, yes she knew she had to be woken up every two. The nurse finally toddled off to retrieve a doctor and start her discharge paperwork.

The drive home was awkward. Neither one of them could think of anything to say to the other, and small talk just seemed inappropriate somehow. If they knew each other better, if they were actually friends, then maybe the silence wouldn't have been so uncomfortable, Lissa thought.

She had been so relieved to see him at the door. Greg had already hit her in the head with the bat, and Randy had been grinding his foot into her chest. They had been making all sorts of sick threats too, and that had scared her more than the physical pain she was in. When she had seen Victor standing there, she had just known she was going to be okay. He wasn't going to let them hurt her anymore. It was odd how certain she had been of that. They weren't a couple and regardless of what they knew about each other, they didn't really know each other, but still, she knew he would save her.

He wanted to hear her making demands and complaining about what had happened. He didn't like her quiet. He enjoyed the sound of her voice, even when she was yelling. He wanted her to yell right now. He was afraid that her silence meant her spirit had taken a beating along with her body.

"Lissa?"

"Yes, Victor?"

"If it would be alright with you, I'd like to stay with you. Make sure you're okay." He chose his words carefully. If she didn't want to let him into her apartment, he would park outside her apartment to keep an eye on her. Her safety was his first priority right now.

Was he asking her permission? She just stared at him blankly for a moment. "If you don't mind, it would save me the trouble of trying to stay awake on my own, and the annoyance of having to reset my alarm every two hours."

He smiled." I don't mind. I'd rather I was there in case ….you needed something."

"You mean in case someone else tries to attack me tonight." She watched his shoulders sag.

"I was trying to be subtle, Lissa."

She snorted a laugh." Subtle ain't your strong suit, Mr. Creed."

"I tried though, do I get any points for that?"

She shook her head." You already have points for being my knight n tarnished armor. You don't need any more points tonight."

He grinned wolfishly. "Tarnished armor, huh?"

She nodded at him smiling, then her expression turned serious. " Do you really think someone else will try to attack me?"

He shrugged. " I don't know. I'm not taking the chance though."

She sighed. "Better safe than sorry."

They sat silently again, only this time it wasn't as oppressive or awkward.

"Jesus, I am not looking forward to tomorrow," Lissa said.

Victor raised en eyebrow.

She explained. "More police reports, calling the insurance company, cleaning up the store, hoping that I don't find things in even worse condition. Not to mention that things like this always hurt worse on the second day."

"Can any of your employees help?"

"I'm sure they will, it just seems like so much to deal with now." She yawned and he glanced over at her.

"No sleeping," he ordered. She rolled her eyes at him.

He shrugged. "Doctor's orders."

"You're just going to enforce them right," she said teasingly. She nudged him gently with her elbow.

"Damn straight," he replied.

Soon enough they reached Lissa's apartment. He didn't have to carry her this time, not that he would have minded carrying her, but her did have to steady her a couple times. He wasn't sure if she was dizzy or just plain exhausted.

Once inside she flopped down on her couch and reached for the cordless phone on her end table. She called her insurance company and left a message. Then she called her day manager and left a message to let her know what was going on. She wouldn't be able to call anyone to repair the door until after the sun actually rose. She knew there were probably emergency repair services, but she honestly didn't want to have to leave and meet someone at her shop when she felt like she did right now. Besides, Victor really wasn't a taxi service. She knew he'd insist on coming with her too, and while that made her feel safer, she imagined the repair person might be freaked out. She sighed.

"What's wrong? I mean besides the obvious?"

"I'm just worried about the shop, with the door being broken, or actually nonexistent at this point, anyone could just walk right in. If I call an emergency repair person, I'll have to go back and I am not sure I'm up to that just yet."

He felt a little ashamed at the little spike of happiness that went through him because this was something he could fix. "You know, one of the services my security company provides, is this. I can call it in and they can probably have something temporary rigged within an hour. I can have them station someone outside to watch the place too, to make sure no one tries to steal anything, or vandalize anything further."

"A door would be great, but I don't know about having someone there. I don't want anyone else to get hurt," she said worriedly.

He smiled. " Most of my security guys are ex-military. I'll let them know to send someone who can handle themselves."

She considered it for a moment. "Okay," she said finally. "But I want you to bill me."

"No," he said firmly, but gently. "Just consider it a perk."

"Of being with you," she stated. She watched him carefully.

He nodded. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before finally nodding her agreement.

He smiled at her, and she felt herself grow warm. This wasn't a wolfish grin, or a smirk, or an evil smile of doom. It was almost, shy, for lack of a better word. He looked happy, pleased with himself.

This was a side of him she hadn't expected to see so soon, if ever. She tried not to stare, but it was difficult. She wondered if she was seeing who Victor would have been if his life hadn't unfolded the way it had.

He was happy she was letting him help her. He knew she was independent, so he didn't expect her to let him help all the time, or take over, but he was glad that she was willing to bend on this. He felt like it was his right to fix things like this for her, protect her. He knew it would be a while before she understood what that really meant. Hell, he was still getting used to having the urge to take care of someone other than himself. He wondered if this was what it was like for Jimmy. Did he just see all X-Men as pack, and all the brats at the school were just like extended pack? How the hell did Jimmy do it? It was stressful, and exhausting and he wanted to kill anyone who looked at Lissa cross eyed.

"God, I'm disgusting," she said.

Victor's head whipped around. "WHAT?"

She laughed at his facial expression. "I mean, I am grimy and sweaty and a little sticky in places. I need a shower."

"Oh," he said relieved. She laughed at him again. "What," he growled.

"Just the look on your face," she replied.

"So glad I can entertain you," he sniped.

"I'll just consider it another perk," she teased.

He smiled again, and this time she felt warm for an entirely different reason. This was not a shy, boyish grin. This was the big bad wolf assuring little red riding hood that he just wanted to help her with her basket smile. "There are lots of them," he rumbled.

"What," she asked.

"Perks," he replied. He stared directly into her eyes, still smiling that smile.

Her mouth was completely dry. "I'm sure there are," she managed to say, and then she fled to the bathroom.

He had smelled how his smile had affected her, how aroused she was. And he smelled how conflicted she was about it, so he didn't follow her. He had just called out to leave the door unlocked just in case she fell, or needed help. She hadn't replied, but he knew she would.

The thought of her naked, and wet, with just a flimsy and unlocked bathroom door between them, was killing him. He didn't have it in him to feel ashamed for wanting her when she was still hurting, but he knew he wouldn't act on those desires, not unless she sent him a very clear signal that she was receptive to it, and he didn't see that happening anytime soon.

He wouldn't pressure her for sex, but he was going to let her know he was interested. He knew how to seduce a woman, how to make her want him. He would never force Lissa, but that didn't mean he was going to play fair. He smirked. It wasn't his nature to play fair.

Lissa gently scrubbed the dirt and grime off her body. Why did getting beat up always leave you sticky and filthy, she wondered. She winced at the fact that she had been beaten enough times to know that little fact.

Victor had asked her to leave the door unlocked, and she had. For some reason, she trusted him to not just barge in uninvited. She didn't trust that last smile he had given her, though. Or rather, she didn't trust her own reaction to that smile. Hopefully, she had managed to leave the room before his sensitive nose had picked up on her reaction to him. It was embarrassing, really. A girl liked to have some secrets.

While Lissa showered, Victor busied himself making phone calls to his security company. He informed them of the situation and gave them very specific instructions. He had decided that he would send a clean up crew as well as a repair crew. Nothing would be thrown away, but Lissa wouldn't have to clean the whole mess herself, and she wouldn't be starting from square one. The shelves would all be back in place, and all the broken glass and splintered wood would be gone. He didn't dare order anything else done. He knew she'd be pissed if he took any other decisions out of her hands.

He wasn't sure whether to be impressed or concerned over how she was handling things. She wasn't sobbing hysterically, or throwing things around, and she didn't seem like she was in shock. She seemed to be taking everything almost too well. He wondered if that meant all the emotional fireworks were coming later. Something else was bothering him, too. He remembered her saying something earlier, about injuries like this hurting worse on the second day. Was that something she had been told, or did she have firsthand knowledge. Suddenly, how well she was dealing with this situation, and with him, made an odd sort of sense.

She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. She looked awful. She was pale and bruised and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was still wet and lay against her scalp in tangles. She hated seeing herself like this. She looked like a battered woman. She looked like her mother.

She shook her head at her reflection. No. It didn't matter what she looked like, she would never be her mother. While she would do whatever she had to do to survive, she would never let someone else get hurt to spare herself. She would never stand by while a child was being hurt. Never. She took a deep, shaky breath.

When in doubt, fall back into routine, she told herself. She grabbed her moisturizer and began dabbing it anywhere she wasn't scraped or sore. She blew her hair dry and brushed is as well as she could, avoiding her stitches. She looked in the mirror. Better, not great, but good enough. She cinched her robe tight and opened the bathroom door.

Victor had sort of taken over the couch while she showered. He had taken his shoes off and now he sort of sprawled across it while watching television,

He smiled at her as she walked over to him. He gestured to the television." You mind if we keep it on the news channels for a while? I like to stay current."

She shrugged. "Fine with me."

She grabbed a book off the end table and sat down on the end of the couch opposite him. She found her book mark and started reading. He watched the news and sighed at the financial reports. His stock was fine, it was up in point of fact, but both the dow and NASDAQ were down fifty and one hundred points respectively. This made people twitchy when it came to investing, which meant some of his projects that were on the table might have to wait a little longer.

He cleared his throat. " Hey Lissa?"

"Yes," she replied not looking up from her book.

"I'm not trying to step on your toes or anything, but when I called my people, I had them send a cleanup crew. They won't throw anything away and they'll take pictures, for the insurance and the police. They are just going to put the shelves back up and get rid of all the broken glass."

He definitely had her attention now. She stared at him. " I appreciate that, Victor."

He looked at her warily. "But?"

She shrugged. "But nothing. I would have had to wait until morning otherwise." She opened her book and started reading again.

That wasn't really the reaction he was expecting and that worried him. She was supposed to be a little pissed and tell him off a bit. Maybe even poke him a couple of times. Not this milksop acceptance.

She spoke without looking up from her book. " Don't think I am going to let you run roughshod over me, though. Push me too far, and we'll see how fast you recover from having body parts super glued to each other."

He grinned. That was more like it.

Eventually, Lissa was allowed to sleep. She told the voice in her head to shut up when it told her that allowing Victor to share the bed again was a bad idea. She already knew it was a bad idea, she also knew that she would feel safer with him there. How many people who actually knew what he was could say that?

"Should I set my alarm clock," she asked him.

He shrugged. " It's up to you. I don't really need to sleep yet. Still kinda keyed up, between the mission and …" he broke off uncertainly.

She smiled wryly. "I won't set the alarm just yet then. If you change your mind, just wake me up, and I will set it."

She crawled into bed and pulled the covers up. She was so relieved to finally be able to sleep. Sleeping was healing. Sleeping meant not having to think about anything, or deal with anything until she woke up. She just hoped she didn't have any bad dreams.

Victor lay down next to her, trying not to jostle the bed. "How are your ribs," he asked.

"Sore, but manageable," she replied.

"I'm sorry."

She looked at him, surprised. "For what?"

"Not getting there sooner, that it even happened, I guess. Not really sure. Not used to feeling this way," he paused. "Not really used to having feelings at all."

She put her hand on his arm. "It wasn't your fault."

"Doesn't change how I feel."

She didn't know what to say to that, and she didn't want to push him. Her gut said that she should just let him be. He wasn't used to talking with anyone but Sean about his feelings, and while she would welcome more insight into him, she didn't want to put him on the defensive.

She rolled over onto her side, facing him. He stretched out next to her. She could hear him grumbling.

"What's wrong," she asked.

"You need a bigger bed," he complained.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. His feet were almost hanging off the bed.

"This is a king size bed, Victor.."

He sighed. "I know. My bed is custom made. You can fit three of me on it."

"Throw lots of wild parties do you, " she said dryly.

He let out a surprised laugh. "Nah baby doll, I'm a cat. I like to stretch out and be comfortable."

She bit her lip. "Are you going to be okay tonight?"

He leaned over and very gently kissed her on the forehead, "I'm fine, Lissa. Go to sleep. I'll watch over you."

She closed her eyes and let sleep take her.

He hadn't been lying when he said he wasn't tired. Even if he had been tired he could go without sleep for days without feeling it too much. It wasn't a big deal for him to stay awake and watch over her. She was sleeping deeply now, her breaths drawn out and even. He let the sound of her relaxed breathing wash over him. He hadn't smelled any fear on her, at least not since they left the hospital. It made him happy and maybe even a little proud that she felt safe enough to sleep, that she trusted him to keep her safe.

He wondered what the morning would bring. He wanted things to go smoothly, but was prepared for them not to. Shock made people act funny, made them a little unpredictable. Maybe she'd be fine, or maybe she'd have a complete meltdown and hurl knick knacks at him again. Whatever. He'd heal. Getting her through was what mattered. Jesus, if Jimmy could see him now. He felt a twinge at the thought. He smiled when he realized that his little brother would actually approve of his current behavior. Not that that mattered. Not like Jimmy even remembered who he was. He sighed. Enough of this maudlin bullshit. He looked over at the clock and realized it was time to wake Lissa.

He reached over and ran a hand down her arm. She shivered in her sleep, but didn't wake up. He didn't want to shake her or startle her.

"Lissa," he said softly.

He eyelids fluttered, but didn't open. "Wake up," he said a little louder. He gently stroked her arm.

She opened her eyes. "Hey," she said groggily. "What time is it?"

"It's about five," he replied.

She groaned. "I don't want to get up."

"You don't have to, you just have to stay awake for a little bit."

"Yes, I do," she said crossly. "I have to pee."

He snickered. She glared at him sleepily and poked him.

"Don't you start Mister," she tried to sound stern, but her yawn at the end totally ruined it.

She tried to sit up and hissed in pain. Victor's grin immediately disappeared.

"Hold on, let me help you up." He got up quickly and moved around to her side of the bed. He helped her to sit up and held her hands while she eased herself into a standing position in front of him.

"Okay," he asked softly.

"Not sure yet," she replied. " I'm going to attempt walking now. Can I lean on you?"

He nodded and put an arm around her. Together they walked slowly to the bathroom. He walked her over to the toilet. "Got it from here," he asked.

"Yes. I'll call you when I'm finished." She was blushing a little. He rolled his eyes as he walked away. He'd never understand women's, or most people's embarrassment over bathroom issues. Everyone pissed, everyone shit. What was the big deal?

He stood a few steps away from the door in an attempt to give her privacy. He didn't have any sense of modesty or shame, but he knew she did.

"Victor," she called softly. There was anxiety in her tone and it instantly put him on alert.

"Yeah ," he called through the door.

"We may have a problem."

"Can I come in?"

"Yes," she replied.

He opened the door to find her standing by the toilet. She had a hand on the wall, bracing herself.

"What's up," he asked, confused.

She sighed and closed her eyes before replying. "I'm not entirely sure of the correct terminology, but I have heard it referred to as pissing blood."

"Fuck," he snarled. "A lot or a little?"

She shrugged. "Enough to be a concern. Hurts too, which is weird cause I don't remember getting hit in the kidneys."

"Okay, baby doll . Back to the hospital we go." He steered her out of the bathroom and into her bedroom. He looked around the room. "Where do you keep your sweats?"

"Bottom dresser drawer," she muttered. She swayed on her feet. He stopped the search for clothes and gently pushed her to the bed. She looked like hell.

"Sit down, frail."

Her eyes snapped open and immediately narrowed at him. " Do not call me that."

He grinned. "But baby doll's okay? I can still call you that, right?"

Her glare turned venomous. "Eventually, I am going to feel better, and eventually I am going to be healed up. Then I am going to hurt you."

His grin was shit eating now. "How are you going to manage that, baby doll?"

She wilted a little at his challenge. She knew there was no way she could actually hurt him in a fight. He might let her try, but the size difference was too much. She brightened suddenly. "I could run you over with my car." Her tone was hopeful and a little innocent.

He roared with laughter. "That's my girl," he said.

She tilted her head and looked down her nose at him. "Not yet," she replied.

He just grinned. Not yet wasn't never. Not yet gave him lots of wiggle room.

He found some sweats and held them for her to put her feet into. He tried not to stare at her legs as she put them through the pant legs. He helped her to her feet and then bent over to pull her sweats up for her. This put his face, and his nose, in line with a very sensitive area. He tried not to be obvious about the deep breaths he was taking, or the pleasure her got from her scent.

She gently touched his shoulder and he cleared his throat, and stood up. "Do you want a t-shirt?"

She nodded. He watched her carefully. If it was possible, somehow she had gone paler. "Do you need to sit down again?"

All she could do was nod. What had started out as an ache, was now a stabbing pain. She tried taking deep, even breaths, and while that helped keep her calm, it did absolutely nothing for the pain.

He didn't want to bother her by asking which drawer her t-shirts were in, so he just randomly opened drawers until he found them. He got lucky on the third try. He brought the shirt over to her, his jaw clenching at the very obvious pain she was in.

"Lissa, can you lift your arms?"

She nodded and lifted her arms as best she could. The arm on her left side was held just a little lower, which made sense to him, as her ribs were injured on that side.

He gently helped her into her shirt. It felt like it was taking forever and everyone one of her winces and hisses of pain killed him.

"Okay," he said. "I am going to call the hospital and let them know we are coming. Then I am going to go move the truck closer. I will come back for you and carry you. I don't want you moving, It could just be bruised kidneys, or it could be internal bleeding somewhere. You understand?" He knew his tone was less than gentle, but he had to be sure that she would understand and obey. He didn't want to call what he was feeling fear, but he didn't have a better name for it. Along with his fear, was a slow building anger. He didn't know what was wrong with her, all he knew was that she was in pain and in anger and he had absolutely no control over the situation. He couldn't beat her possible internal bleeding or kidney damage into submission, or threaten it until it went away.

He forced himself to calm down and keep himself at least, under control. Him flying into a feral rage wouldn't help Lissa. He took deep, even breaths and set about getting Lissa to the hospital.

Victor paced in the tiny hallway. He hadn't wanted to leave the room, but MRI's and adamantium weren't a good combination. No one would tell him anything because he wasn't family. Lissa would probably tell him what was going on, but he currently couldn't be in the same room with her. He grit his teeth and tried not to growl.

His cell phone chirped at him, making him jump a little. He looked at the call display and saw that it was Sean. He breathed a sigh of relief. Sean would help him calm down.

"Hey Sean," he said.

"Victor, where the hell are you? You missed your session today!"

"Yeah, I'm at the hospital. Lissa got hurt."

"Oh my God! What happened?"

Victor quickly filled her in. He was embarrassingly relieved to be able to unload all this emtional crap on Sean. He could feel his anger subsiding as she spoke to him in soothing tones, telling him that everything would be allright. He let her talk for a while, her voice distracting him from the situation at hand.

A nurse poked her head out of the door. "Mr. Creed? You can come in now. She's all done and she is asking for you."

"Sean, I gotta go. Lissa's MRI is done and she wants me."

He could almost hear Seans smile througt the phone as she said, "Take care of her, Victor."

"I will."

He hung up then and went into the exam room.

Lissa was laying on the bed, smiling at him woozily. "Hi, Victor. Guess what?"

"What," he asked warily.

"They gave me pain killers."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she replied. "And they work! They really, really do! They are my favorite." She said the last part very seriously. Victor smothered his smile.

"You're feeling better than?'

"Yup!" She frowned. "But I'm not better though. I've got bruised kidneys and a lacerated whatchamacallit."

"Spleen," the nurse supplied helpfully.

Victor frowned. "How did they not catch that earlier," he asked.

"Sometime, it takes a while for injuries like that to show any outward symptoms. If I had been the attending earlie, I would have made her stay the night."

"Ha," Lissa called out. "No one can make me do anything! You see the size of him," she asked, gwsturing to Victor. "He's a giant and he doesn't scare me. You think you're gonna make me do anything? Ha!"

Victor smirked and even the doctor looked a little amused.

"So babydoll, how are those painkillers treating you," Victor asked. The doctor chuckled a little.

"My pain is definitely killed," Lissa replied solemnly. "And I don't miss it at all."

"Good," Victor said. He leaned closer and took a deep breath, getting as much of her scent as he could. He couldn't smell pain or fear, just the smell of the endorphins released and the normal hospital smells.

The doctor motioned him over. Victor came over. "Are you family?"

"Yes," he answered without hesitaion.

The doctor looked him over carefully, then nodded. "Okay. Here is the situation: sometime in the next 48 hours her spleen needs to be removed. It is lacerated and leaking toxins into her system. Her kidney will heal and be fine, but right now it is bruised and is being overtaxed, having to work extra hard to help filter the extra toxins being leaked by her spleen. I would like to remove it now, but we are a very small hospital and our surgical suites are currently occupied with car crash victims who our surgeons are trying to put back together."

Victor thought for a moment. "Can she be transferred to another hospital?

The doctor nodded. " I was going to recommend that. We can transfer he to Saint-"

"No," Victor cut him off. "I'm...military. I'll get her transferred to the hospital at my base. I just need to make a phone call."

"Before we can get that paper work started, we do need to know how you are related to her."

"We just got engaged." It wasn't really a lie. At least as far as he was concerned.

The doctor raised a very skeptic eyebrow and stared at him. Victor didn't flinch. "Okie-dokie,' the doctor said and left them in the capable hands of the nurse.

Victor stepped out of the room and pulled out his phone.

It rang a few times and a very groggy, very cranky voice answered. "Creed, this had better be important."

"It is, Fury. I need to transfer a family member to tango base's hospital."

There was a moment of silence. "Come again, Creed?"

He sighed. "She's," he paused and swallowed hard. "She's my mate, Nick."

There was another long moment of silence. "Understood. Base ops will call you in two minutes. Fury out."

Victor sighed in relief. Not only was Fury going to approve Lissa'a transfer, in all likelihood, she would recieve the best medical care government money could buy.

Now, he just had to wait two minutes. The longest two minutes of his life.


	13. Chapter 13

Natural Selection Chapter 13

A/N: Sorry it takes so long to post each chapter. I have a husband and two kids and they want food and clean clothes all the time. What a drag. ;)

Thank you so so much for the reviews. It really does encourage me to find the time to work on this. Plus I am enjoying the constructive criticism. It is helpful in helping me improve my writing skills, which is partially the reason I am writing this to begin with.

I am not truly happy with this chapter, but I am posting it anyway so that this story doesn't die.

The transfer to the SHIELD hospital had gone smoothly. Lissa's surgery had not. While the surgeon was opening her up to remove her spleen, the damn thing had decided to burst. Turns out that the spleen carried just as many biles and toxins as an appendix and things had been touch and go for a while. What should have been a five hour surgery, had become a twelve hour nerve shattering epic for Victor.

He had gone back and forth between wanting to kill someone and wanting to trade places with Lissa. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he had felt so helpless. The solution to the problem was completely out of his skill set. Sure, he could mangle some one and remove a spleen (not neatly, and usually not without a lot of screaming), but sugery? Fixing someone? No. He himself could heal from any injury, but he couldn't do anything for Lissa, and it was driving him insane. If it hadn't been for Sean, he probably would have killed a couple of SHIELD foot soldiers just to relieve some of the tension.

He had spoken briefly to a surgical nurse who had been brave enough to come out and tell him what is going on. That had been four hours ago and it was taking all of his self control not to barge into the operating suite for an update.

"Drink this," Sean ordered and shoved a cup into his hand.

He barely glanced at it as he brought it to his mouth and threw the contents into his mouth. He gulped it down like a shot. Sweet and tart. What the hell did he just drink?

"What the hell did I just drink," he asked Sean.

She grinned. "Apple juice. There's no way I am giving you coffee in your current state. The juice will refresh you and give you some much needed nutrients, without adding to your agitation."

He rolled his eyes and she gently slapped his arm. They stood there silently for a moment.

"She's going to be fine, Victor."

"Yeah,' he challenged. "How do you know?"

"In there, is one of the best medical teams in the country. Yes, she was in pretty bad condition when she came in, but people have healed from worse."

His only response was irritated growling and pacing. Sean sighed.

"Is she a fighter?"

"What," he asked, slightly surprised by the question.

"Is she a quitter? Does she give up easily? Is she submissive?"

He snorted. "Submissive? No. Not her. My girl is a poker."

Sean looked at him sideways. " A poker?"

Victor grinned and demonstrated by jabbing a finger into Sean's shoulder. "Yeah, and it doesn't seem to matter how big you are, or how scary you look, if you piss her off, the poking commences. She's a fierce little thing."

"Then she will make it. The fighters always do."

Victor sighed. "I am going to hold you to that, Sean."

Sean hugged him and for the first time in twenty four hours, he thought things would be alright.

Lissa woke slowly. Her eyes felt like they had tiny lead weights on them. She blinked slowly, but the feeling didn't go away. She swallowed and almost coughed because her mouth was so dry. She tried again with slightly better results. After a moment, she was finally able to force her eyes open.

She was pretty sure it was some sort of hospital room. She was also pretty sure it wasn't her local hospital. Everything was way too new and shiny. She looked around carefully for some signs of where she was. She vaguely remembered the doctor had been talking about possibly transferring her to another hospital, but she honestly couldnt remember too much after they had given her that lovely, lovely painkiller.

While she looked around, she took a physical inventory. She wasn't in any pain, but that was probably due to the i.v. that was taped to the back of her right hand. Well, that was nice. She was a lefty and she hated it when her left hand was out of commission for any reason. Hey, look at that, someone had very thoughtfully left a call button tucked into her hand. She pressed the button.

"Well look who's awake," she heard a cheerful voice say a few moments later. She turned her head to see the owner of the voice. The voice belonged to tall, blond woman wearing scrubs.

"Where's Victor," Lissa asked. Her voice was scratchy and it hurt a little to talk.

The lady in the scrubs smiled. "Mr. Creed is currently waiting to be let in this room. Rather impatiently, I might add."

"This doesn't look like the hospital I was in," Lissa said.

"That's because it's not. Your doctor recommended that you be transferred to a hospital that could operate on you more quickly. They are a smaller hospital, really only meant to service a small community so when they had that pile up, their operating suites were backed up. The doctor made a good call and Victor called SHIELD because he knew we are the best."

Lissa raised an eyebrow. "How did I rate the best?"

Scrub lady laughed. " Because Victor Creed demanded it and SHIELD considers him a very valuable asset."

Huh. Victor had mentioned that he worked for SHIELD, but he hadn't said in what capacity. She wondered if scrub lady would give her any answers.

"So ...what does he do for SHIELD?"

Scrub lady shook her head. "Sorry ma'am, that's classified."

Lissa shrugged, or tried to at least. "Worth a shot, scrub lady."

"Scrub lady?"

Lissa nodded, which went a little better than the shrugging. "It's what I have been calling you. You know, in my head."

Scrub lady laughed. "I am Dr. Christine Kellog. You can call me Chris."

Lissa smiled. "That's much better than scrub lady."

"I agree. Now, shall I go and get Victor? He is more than anxious to see you."

Lissa nodded again. "Please. I need to...I'd like to see him."

Chris smiled and left to go get Victor.

Victor growled and jumped to his feet. He couldn't take this shit anymore! She was out of surgery, why weren't they letting him see her? He picked up the chair and hurled it against the wall. It hit the wall hard enought to crack the plaster. Not good enough, he had to break something, destroy something. He looked around. There were other chairs, but seriously? That hadn't had much effect the first time. His eyes landed on a sculpture sitting in the corner of the room. Some sort of art noveau piece of crap. That'll do, he thought to himself. He walked over and started to pick it up, which was no easy feat considering it was almost as tall as he was.

"What are you doing," Sean's voice asked from behind him.

He dropped the sculpture. "Nothing." He put his hands behind his back and tried to look innocent.

Sean snorted and rolled her eyes. "Nothing? Honestly Victor, I leave you alone for five minutes and you're tearing up the place."

He shrugged. "It was that or go find someone to kill."

She sighed. "Well then, I commend you on the redirection of your hostilities."

Victor smirked. 'I promise to try and use my words next time,doc."

"I live in eternal hope," Sean said serenely.

"Really," he said dryly. 'Cause I thought you..."

"She is awake and asking for you, " a female voice cut in.

Victor's head whipped around. "You her doctor?"

"One of them. I'm Dr. Kellog." She reached out a hand for him to shake. He took it a little warily.

She gestured toward the chairs he hadn't hurled at the wall. "Let's sit down a sec, there is some stuff I need to go over with you before I take you to her."

They sat down and Victor gestured impatiently at her to get on with it.

"Okay Mr. Creed, here's the deal. She is going to be fine. The surgery and the clean up went well. It took us so long because after her spleen burst we needed to be sure we got all the crap it released. If we hadn't then infection and sepsis would have set in pretty fast and even with modern medicine, we still lose people that way sometimes." She paused to let him process this. He nodded at her to continue. " She is on a morphine drip right now, so she isn't in any pain. In a few hours, when she is a little more healed up, we will switch that out to a manual drip that she can control herself. She is also on some pretty heavy duty antibiotics because we aren't going to take any chances with infection. She is looking at a three week recovery period. She needs to rest and be as inactive as possible. We would prefer she stay here for a week on complete bed rest."

Victor looked at her. "That's probably the best idea. If she is released too soon, something could go wrong, or she might try to do too much too soon and end up back in the hospital."

The doctor nodded. "Exactly. We don't want her to have any complications from the surgery, and we don't want her to hurt herself accidentally while she is recovering."

"Allright," he said. He smirked. "But you're telling her she's staying in the hospital, not me. If she's gonna be pissed at someone, I don't want it to be me."

The doctor looked at him like he was a lunatic, but he just grinned. "I can see her now?"

"Yes, just follow me." She stood up and gestured for him to follow her through the double doors that led to the recovery room.

Lissa heard him before she saw him. Heavy footsteps. She wondered if he did it on purpose just for her. Secret agents weren't supposed to sound like a herd of elephants, right?

"Hello, secret agent man," she said.

He rumbled out a laugh. "I was going to ask how the morphine is treating you, but I think I can tell."

She smiled. "Come here where I can see you better."

He came over and cautiously sat down on her bed. He looked her over. She was definitely worse for wear. Maybe it showed on his face because she winced.

"I look that \bad, huh?"

"Nah," he denied. "Just used to seeing a little more color in your cheeks."

She smiled at his attempt to make her feel better. "Nice try sweetie, but I'm pretty sure I look like crap."

He stared at her. Sweetie? Did she just call him sweetie? Had anyone ever called him sweetie before? Somehow he doubted it. He really wasn't the type that people called pet names. Well, unless you counted freak or monster as a pet name.

"Sweetie,' he asked her.

"If you can call me baby doll, then I can call you sweetie."

He smiled. That probably made perfect sense to her in her current state. "I can live with that," he said.

She smiled at him woozily. "So what did the doctor say?"

He looked at her warily. " I think I will let her talk to you herself."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What's going on, Victor?"

His shoulders sagged. "Dammit, I wanted her to tell you so you can be pissed at her, instead of me."

She looked a little alarmed now. "Why? What's wrong?"

He rushed to assure her. "No, no, nothings wrong. It's just that they want you to stay here in the hospital for a week. On bed rest." He didn't look at her as he said it, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

She sighed. "Well, I guess that makes sense. It's inconvenient as all get out, but it's understandable." She sighed again. "How does a girl make a phone call in this place?"

He grinned, happy that she wasn't throwing a fit. He handed her his cell phone. "You can use mine. I will get your stuff for you in a little while. You should probably make me a list of things you want or need, and you know, a general location of where they are unless you want me to just rifle through your stuff until I find what I am looking for."

She chuckled lightly."Is that an official secret agent search procedure? Rifling through things?"

He grinned and said,"You would be surprised at how often it works. People leave things in the damnedest places, and some people are just slobs."

She shrugged. "I left my cell phone in the fridge once. I was busy and got distracted and it just sort of happened. I turned my entire apartment upside down, and was about to give up and buy a new one. I opened the fridge to get some juice and there it was."

"Don't feel bad, I put my wallet in the dishwasher once."

She laughed out loud and then winced in pain. He leaned forward, concerned. "Hey, take it easy. They aren't going to let me near you if they think I am detrimental to your recovery."

She raised an eyebrow. "Could they keep you away?"

He grinned savagely, showing off his fangs. "They could try."

She rolled her eyes at him and gently smacked his arm.

It was odd, but somehow knowing that he was willing to fight for her made her feel a little more secure about his future intentions towards her. He was a violent man, but if he was willing to fight to protect her, then chances were, he was less likely to hurt what he considered valuable. Then again, his regenerative properties turned any injuries into a minor annoyance, and he seemed to enjoy fighting so maybe she was wrong. She sat quietly, thinking.

"What are you thinking about so hard," he asked her.

"Oh," she said. " I'm just trying to figure out what I will need for the next week."

He knew she was lying. He could smell it. He let it slide though. Whatever she was thinking about, she wasn't ready to share it yet, and forcing her was counterproductive. He wanted her to share things freely with him. He wanted trust and mutual respect and if he kept thinking like this, he was going to have to kick his own ass because he was starting to sound like one of the books about relationships that Sean made him read.

-\

Victor left the base a half hour later with a different set of marching orders than the ones he usually got. Lissa's list was a lot longer than he had thought it would be. He had actually stopped by Sean's office to ask if it was normal for a woman to need this much crap. Sean had assured him that Lissa's list was all actually necessary and beneficial to her recovery.

He smiled a little when he got to the part of the list that demanded he bring her some reading material and her computer. He himself had never been confined to a hospital bed, but he remembered Jimmy being sick a lot when he was little. The little runt had always needed someone to entertain him while he was stuck in bed. He definitley wouldn't mind entertaining Lissa, he just didn't think she would be recovered enough for the kind of activities he was thinking of.

The doctor had said at least a three week recovery period. He shook his head. How the hell was he supposed to get throught this without killing someone?

Lissa had been trying to rest when someone had very quietly knocked on her door. She knew automatically that it wasn't Victor, he wouldn't think to knock, he would just sort of announce his presence and amble in like some great jungle cat.

"Come in," she said a little warily.

A tall rugged looking man with an eye patch pushed open the door.

He kept his gaze on her as he walked over to sit in the chair by her bed. He didn't act in any sort of threatening manner, but his silence made her a but nervous. As if sensing this, he smiled at her disarmingly and stuck out his hand for her to shake.

"Nick Fury," he announced.

Holy shit! Victor's boss? She cleared her throat. "Lissa Montgomery...but you probably already knew that." She shifted nervously in her bed.

He nodded. "I need to ask you a few questions Ms. Montgomery." He watched her carefully.

Oh God! Was this where he debriefed her or whatever they called it? Was she going to disappear? Why did she send Victor to get her things? She could feel her heart pounding and her anxiety must have shown on her face.

Nick watched an unnatural palor wash over her face. He wondered if her painkillers had worn off until he realized what his statement would sound like to the average civilian. Especially one who had just survived a major beat down and a life saving surgery. He mentally kicked himself in the ass.

He leaned forward and rested a hand on hers. "Please relax, Ms. Montgomery. You aren't in any trouble and you haven't done anything wrong."

She said something so quietly he couldn't hear her. "I'm sorry, Ms. Montgomery. I didn't quite catch that. Could you please repear that?"

She looked at him with a shaky smile and cleared her throat again. " I said to call me Lissa."

Nick smiled back. "Alright then, Lissa. Do you feel up to answering a few questions?"

She tilted her head at him and looked at him curiously. " Will you answer a couple of mine?"

Nick leaned back a little. He hadn't expected that show of spirit after her initial fear.

"If I can. Some things you ask I might not have the answer to, or you might not have the clearance for."

She nodded in understanding. "Okay. Shoot."

He grinned at her. "Okay, Lissa. First question: what did Victor tell you about SHIELD."

She shrugged. "Not much. Just that he worked for SHIELD and that he couldn't tell me anything else because it was classified. How long has Victor worked for SHIELD?"

He narrowed his eyes a little. It wasn't really classified information, but it was pushing it a little. " About three years.' He paused for a moment. "How long have you known Victor?"

She thought a moment. "About two weeks, give or take. We met a month ago, but we didn't really get to know each other right away."

He leaned back in his chair surprised. He blinked at her a little stupidly. That had not been what he expected to hear at all. It made the answer to his next question even more important though.

"Lissa," he said gravely. " I need you to listen to me for a moment, okay?" She nodded.

"I need you to know that we can keep you safe. I need you to understand that even though Victor is a valuable asset, we will not put his concerns above yours. Do you understand?"

She nodded again, this time a little warily.

"Good," he said. " Lissa, it is very important that you answer this question honestly. No matter what the answer is, no one will judge you, or think any less of you, alright?"

"Okay," she said, her tone wary.

He looked directly into her eyes, watching her carefully. "Lissa, are you with Victor of your own free will?"

A/N: Yes, I am ending this chapter this way. Why yes, I am evil incarnate! How ever did you guess?


	14. Chapter 14

Natural Selection Chapter 14

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. All of the reviews were helpful, especially the one that told me to enable anonymous reviews. I hadn't even thought of doing that. Another helpful suggestion was for me to post smaller chapters so that the story would be updated faster. I am totally embracing that suggestion so that this can move along a little faster.

I am really glad that people are enjoying this and I hope people will stick with me for all the twists and turns I have planned.

For a full two minutes, all Lissa could do was to stare ar Nick Fury like he had suddenly sprouted two heads. For his part, all he could do was hold his breath and wait for her answer.

Escape was Lissa's first thought. If she told Fury that Victor was holding her against her will, or terrorizing her into being with him, she knew Fury would do everything in his and SHIELD's power to help her. But did she truly want that? At this point, was Victor really holding her against her will, and really had he ever? Sure, he had stalked her and broken into her apartment to talk with her, but he hadn't hurt her in any way, not even when she had thrown things at him. He hadn't lied to her about anything either. He'd practically laid his soul at her feet. He had saved her from her attackers and he had in no way taken advantage of her.

And then, there was the attraction between them . Victor said she was his mate, and she had a feeling that wasn't a temporary thing. As guilty and conflicted as she felt, she definitely wanted him on a physical level. What woman wouldn't? He was gorgeous, and strong. Definite alpha male material. Even now, just thinking about him made her stomach tighten in desire.

She sighed. " Mr. Fury,- " she started to say, but he cut her off.

"Nick," he nodded. "Nick, " she said. "Can I be honest with you?"

"Of course, " he replied.

She smiled wryly. People always said that, and then got pissed with you when you were. "As it stands right now, I am with Victor Creed of my own free will. However, I have only known him for a couple of weeks and that situation could change."

He watched her carefully for signs of deception, or fear. " You said currently. At any time did he force you to accompany him anywhere, or threaten you in any way?"

She shook her head. " No. Quite the opposite, in fact. " She looked him straight in the eyes. "I don't know how to explain the situation betweeen Victor and I. I really don't. I can only tell you that I am with him of my own free will and that he hasn't harmed me in any way, and he has had the opportunity to do so."

"He said you are his fiance."

Lissa blinked. "That was probably for the doctor's benefit. I wasn't exactly in a position to make medical decisions for myself and I don't have any family, so..." she trailed off.

Nick shook his head. "When he called me to transfer you here, he told me you were his fiance. He wouldn't have to tell me that to get me to transfer you here. He wouldn't have to bullshit me the way he would the doctors."

"Huh," she said. She held up her left hand. "Well, I don't have a ring so, I would say he's getting a little ahead of himself."

Nick leaned forward and said, "Lissa, I don't think you understand how serious this situation is. You have only known him for a short time, and in that time I am fairly certain that he has been on his best behavior. You have no idea who he really is or what he is capable of."

Lissa chuckled darkly. "Oh, I do Nick. I really do. Probably better than you do."

"Lissa," Nick started, but she cut him off.

"He told me everything. Well, everything that wasn't classified. It wasn't pretty and it wasn't fun to hear, but I probably know more than you do about his past."

Nick stared at her and she chuckled a little more at his expression.

Victor checked the list one last time. It looked like he had everything, but he wanted to be sure. It was an hour drive back to the base, which meant a two hour round trip. He didn't like being away from her that long. It wasn't that he didn't trust her, but he that he didn't trust anyone else to keep her safe. If the runt actually had any of his memories, he would have given him a call and asked him to keep an eye on Lissa. Hell, even without his memories, he still probably would. Jimmy always was a sucker for a damsel in distress.

He also didn't trust Fury's intentions. He knew that Fury didn't like him. Fury would work with him, give him orders, smooth things over with the cops, whatever. But in the end, Victor was just a means to an end and he had no illusions about how Fury regarded him. Fury thought he was an animal, and he was mostly right.

He hefted the large duffel bag he had put Lissa's things into. If she needed anything else, he would just go buy it. There was a shopping mall much closer to the SHIELD facilty than her apartment was. He left the apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. He looked at the last item on her list and sighed. She wanted him to stop by her store and check and see how bad the damages really were and what the work crew had accomplished so far. He was to take pictures, "good ones" and bring them back for her approval. When had he become an errand boy, anyway? Oh yeah, when Lissa had handed him list and said fetch. He rolled his eyes at himself and set out for her store.

Lissa felt like she was playing a really bizarre game of chess. She knew that Nick was unhappy with her answers, and her attitude, but she didn't know what to say. She felt like he already had the answers for most of his questions and was just testing her to see what she would say, or if she would break under pressure.

She sighed. "Nick, I will tell you this one more time; Victor did not give me any classifed information in regards to his work for SHIELD."

"How can you be sure? Just the fact that he mentioned his work to you at all is a little suspicious.' He frowned at her.

She rolled her eyes. " Because if I asked him something in regards to his work, he would say "Sorry, Liss. That's classified." Nick continued to frown at her so she went on. "And he didn't say it in a cheesy way either, like most guys do when they are trying to impress you or lie to you. He was serious." She paused again. "He looked kind of uncomfortable really, like he wanted to talk to me, but couldn't."

Nick latched onto that statement. " And that's what some of our concerns are, Lissa. He puts both you and the country in danger if he gives you that kind of information."

"But he hasn't, and he wont," she replied as patiently as she could.

"He might," Nick replied in the same tone of voice.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. "No. I really don't think he will. He is a lot smarter than you give him credit for. He will have thought about the danger that knowing classified information could put me in. He wouldn't want that."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Victor wouldn't put her in danger. Not knowingly, not on purpose. While she coiuldn't be sure of all of his intentions towards her, that much she did know. Victor wasn't going to allow anyone else to hurt her. She gave an inward wince at that. She wasn't really being fair. She kept saying things like that to herself. Like she was expecting him to lose control and hurt her at some point, when he hadn't at all and really could have. The most he had done was to restrain her. Yeah, he had picked her up in the boy's kitchen, but that hadn't hurt her and he had been trying to make a point, or assert dominance without hurting her.

"He has enemies, Lissa. A lot of them."

She sighed. "What do you want, Nick? I have answered your questions to the best of my ability, I really have. It seems like you either think I am lying, which really would serve no purpose, or you just don't like my answers, so you are trying to badger me into giving you ones you like better."

He looked at her in surprise. "I'm not trying to badger you, Lissa. I just want to be sure you fully understand what you're getting into and what all your options really are."

She smiled."I appreciate that. I really do. "

They sat silently, sizing each other up. Lissa wondered what piece on the board Nick thought of her as. A bishop? A rook? She glanced at his tense features. He was definitely a knight. She sighed. Where was Victor? She missed him. He didn't treat her like she didn't know her own mind, or was incapable of grasping a situation.

Victor growled in annoyance. The work crew wasn't nearly as far along as they should be. It wasn't their fault really, they kept getting interrupted by reporters trying to get a statement and gawkers who kept trying to get into the store for a look at the destruction.

Lissa was going to be pissed. There had been a lot more damage to the merchandise than expected. She was going to have to reorder about half of her inventory and a couple of wall panels were going to have to be replaced as they couldn't be patched properly. Her cash register was going to have to be replaced as well. He put his hands on his hips as he looked around with a scowl on his face.

One of the workers approached him nervously. "Mr. Creed?"

"Yeah," he snapped.

"I'm Kelly Martin. I am in charge of the cleanup."

He stared at her silently. She cleared her throat. He could smell the nervousness and fear rolling off of her and while that would normally amuse him, today he just didn't have the time for it.

'What do you want, Kelly?"

"Well, I am assuming that Ms. Montgomery isn't here to oversee the cleanup for medical reasons, so what I did was compile some materials for her. There are a couple of catalogues for her exterior door, so she can pick a permanent one, and I have gotten some quotes on the front window replacement. I included some quotes on some different types of safety glass. They don't break or shatter as easily. I also contacted the company that she got her electronic equipment from, like her cash register, and have a catalogue from them as well, since she seems to prefer their products."

He blinked at her and she took that as her cue to continue. " We compared her last inventory with what we found in the store and made a listing of all the books she is going to have to reorder due to damage. I also included a quote for a security gate in case she wanted added security measures."

"What about the carpeting," he asked. He gestured to the bloodstained carpet. Some of that blood was Lissa's. He stared at it.

"We have someone coming with some carpet samples the day after tomorrow. The drywall people are coming tomorrow and then we will have some paint samples for her to look at as well. Oh, I have a memory card for you that has pictures for the insurance company as well as some pictures of the work we have already done. The insurance adjuster was already here, and will be checking in periodically. He says Lissa can call him at her convenience. We have his card if you need it."

Victor stared at her in surprise. "You're very efficient, Kelly."

She smiled shyly. "It's my job, sir."

He smiled. "If you can go get me those catalogues, and the memory card, I'll be out of your hair."

She nodded and scampered off .

"If you don't mind, Lissa, I have just a few more questions for you."

Lissa sighed in annoyance. She couldn't help it. She was tired and achey and just wanted to go to let her painkillers work their magic so she could sleep.

Nick smiled wryly at her facial expression. That sigh had spoken volumes. "It occurs to me, that our dossier on Creed is extremely light compared to our other-"

"No," she cut him off before he could even finish his sentence.

Nick raised his eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to answer that quickly? You might want to think about that for a minute."

Lissa glared at him. "Or what?"

"I'm not threatening you, Lissa. I'm just suggesting that it might be benficial to both of us if SHIELD has more complete information on Creed."

She tilted her head to the side. "I can see how it would benefit SHIELD, and maybe even myself, but would it benefit Victor?" He didn't answer so she continued. " What does Sean have to say?"

"He told you abour Sean," Nick asked in surprise.

"I told you he told me everything."

Nick shrugged. "It's just surprising is all. Men like Victor don't seem to be the type to talk about their therapist with the object of their affection."

"He wanted me to understand."

"Understand what?"

"Who he is. What he is. Who he used to be and who he wants to be. "

"And you think you understand him?"

Lissa scoffed. "Not yet. Not completely, but I have a starting point."

Nick ran his fingers over his scalp in frustration. "I don't think you understand the situation, or at least your perception of things are skewed. Victor Creed is a dangerous man, maybe the most dangerous I have ever encountered. Maybe you're caught up in the romance of it all- the big, strong misunderstood mutant and his herione who can help him change his ways-"

Lissa cut him off again, this time with laughter. " Romantic? Seriously? Which part? When he carried my unconscious, bleeding body to the hospital, or when I had to be carried back to the hospital and I couldn't even speak because I was in so much pain?"

He didn't reply, he just stared ar her.

She sighed. "Nick, do you know what the difference between Victor, and any other man who has done the same horrible things?"

"Any other man we can stop with a bullet," Nick asked sarcastically.

She shook her head. "Longevity. Most people are going to live relatively short lives. If they are criminals, and they are going to do horrible things, you only have to worry about it for a couple of decades. They are going to get older, weaker, easier to catch and manage."

It was Nick's turn to look at Lissa like she was the one who sprouted extra heads. "Go on, " he said.

"People like Victor, the ones who don't get older or weaker, they're different. You can't count on old age to take them down, or low testerone mellowing them out. There is no life event besides being caught and imprisoned that is going to trigger a change for them. " She paused, wanting to be sure he understood so far. He gestured for her to continue. "Unless they want to change. Unless they for some reason, have to take a good , hard look at their past and for whatever reason decide for themselves that this isn't what they want anymore."

"And you think he's done that?" Nick looked sceptical.

Lissa smiled a little. "For Victor, it's a little more complicated than that. He's a feral type mutant right?"

Nick nodded. "Yeah, feline mutations as far as we can tell."

"Have you ever known a cat, especially one that lives in the wild, not to hunt, or kill prey when given the opportunity?"

He regarded her silently for a moment. "He's a little more dangerous than a house cat, Lissa."

"I know. He has opposable thumbs," she said seriously.

Nick barked out a surprised laugh. "Lady, you are something else."

Victor glanced at his watch. He had been gone for three hours and twenty two minutes. More than long enough for something to have happened to Lissa. Or for someone to try to turn her against him. Okay, he definitely needed another session with Sean, because that last thought was paranoid.

He was anxious about what people would say to her, though, He had told Fury that they were engaged and if he knew Fury half as well as he thought he did, Fury would be trying to warn her how dangerous he was. The bitch of it was that Fury was right, he was dangerous. What Fury didn't know was that the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Lissa. No, scratch that, hurting Lissa wasn't even on Victor's list of things to do. Kiss her, hold her, touch her everywhere his hands could reach- yeah he'd like to put a big red check mark next to each of those. But hurting her? The thought actually made his stomach a little queasy. When he had seen the blood on the carpet, and his nose had told him that some of it was hers, his stomach had clenched in a very unfamiliar way. The only time he had ever felt remotely like that before was when he and Jimmy were kids and a cougar had knocked Jimmy unconscious and dragged him off to snack on later. Victor's stomach had been in knots until he tracked the cougar and retrieved his bothersome little brother.

This was different though. He wasn't just anxious because she had been hurt, he wanted to keep her from ever getting hurt again and he knew that just wasn't realistic. People got hurt all the time. Tripping on the sidewalk, or stairs. Car accidents. Mishaps in the kitchen. Morning showers gone horribly wrong. He couldn't protect her from any of that and it was eating away at him. It was lucky he had a healing factor or he would have gotten an ulcer.

This was why he prefered to live on instinct instead of reason for the most part. Thinking too much just led to frustration and regret. If Fury was indeed trying to talk Lissa into running for the hills, he was right to do so. As much as he wanted Lissa, that didn't mean he deserved her. Sean could tell him that his past was just that- the past, and to let it go, but it didn't change the fact that he had done monstrous things. It didn't change the fact that he was still very capable of doing those things. In fact, he knew that he would do some of those things again, probably in the service of his country.

He wasn't the type of person to cheer himself on for only being a monster part of the time. He knew he had changed in some ways. For instance, he hadn't raped or done anything to a woman against her will in over three years. That didn't sound like a long period of time, but for someone who had taken whatever and whoever he had wanted whenever he felt the urge, it was something. He had also kept to his bargain with Fury. He didn't kill people whenever he felt like it. He didn't go over his one justifiable kill a month limit, and he didn't routinely put people in the hospital. He honored his word, something that in the past, he might not have felt the need to do.

Sean would say that he had made great strides, and that he should give himself credit. For what exactly? For not killing people on a whim? For not terrorizing women? Wasn't that something that he should just know not to do, or not want to do? Weren't those urges that millions of people controlled everyday?

It was kind of funny. He had always mocked Jimmy for being so self controlled. For leashing the beast underneath his skin. He had never seen the point. Why bother? You are what you are. There is no escaping your own skin, your own self. Jimmy and he had argued about it countless times. He thought it was because Jimmy was too soft, too human, or just in denial. Now he realised that that wasn't the case. Jimmy had known along that sometimes it was worth caging the beast, that what you got back in return was worth it. Jimmy had figured out how to walk the line between man and beast and Victor couldn't ask him how.

After her joke about opposable thumbs, things had gone quiet again. Nick decided that even if she had lousy taste in men, he still liked her and would do what he could to make her life easier. God knew life with Victor Creed was going to be anything but easy. He winced inwardly at the question he had to ask her next. If she didn't already hate him now, she just might after.

"Lissa, I only have one more question for you and I can pretty much guarantee you aren't going to like it, but I do need an answer. "

"Okay," she said, her tone apprehensive.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. He really wasn't sure how to ask this. "You said that Victor told you about his past?"

She nodded.

"Did you tell him about yours?" He was looking at her face as he asked it, but was still aware of her hands clenching into fists at her side.

"What do you mean?" Her voice was flat. Toneless. Her body language told a diffeent story. Her entire spine was one taught line and her fingernails had to be digging into her palms with how tightly she had her fists clenched. She looked like she was ready to tear out her i.v. and bolt from the room.

His voice was gentle as he said, "Your real name is Melissa Mayfield. You became a ward of the state at age ten after your father killed your mother and almost killed you. You were adopted by the Montgomerys when you were thirteen and your juvenile records were sealed."

"If my records were sealed, how did you get them?" She asked in the same toneless voice.

"We're SHIELD. There aren't any records we can't get to." He kept his voice gentle, but not pitying.

"Anything else in my records that you would like to share with me, Nick?" Her voice was less robotic this time. Her spirit was starting to overshadow her shock.

He kept his voice gentle and even as he said," You were in two foster homes before the Montgomerys adopted you. Neither worked out. One because the foster parents found out they were going to have a baby, and the other because they were convicted of child neglect."

"That's more of a statement than a question."

"You lived with the Montgomerys until you were nineteen, when they were killed in a car accident."

"Still not a question, Nick." She glared at him.

"Okay, the question is this Lissa: Does Victor know anything at all about your childhood? You seem to know all about his baggage, does he know about yours?"

She shrugged. "Not yet."

"Why?"

"We have known each other for two weeks. I haven't gotten around to it yet. Not that it's really any of your business."

"You need to tell him, Lissa. He needs to know." His voice was grave.

"Why," she snarled. "So he can feel sorry for me? So he can see how damaged and fucked up I really am?" She threw her hands up in the air. "Jesus Christ, Nick. Why not just let him have his illusion for a little longer? "

"No, Lissa. He needs to know so he can understand you the way you understand him, or say that you do."

She laughed a little hysterically. "What's to understand, Nick? Huh? Do you think you understand?"

He looked at the floor. "No. I read your file. I looked at the police reports and your medical records. I saw the pictures of the crime scene and your injuries. I have no idea how you survived. I have no idea how you managed to keep your sanity."

She snorted. "What makes you think I did?"

"Well, your taste in men is a little suspect, but other than that, you seem to be just fine." He smiled at her, hoping to lighten the mood.

It worked. She smiled shakily at him.

"Lissa, there is another reason to tell him."

She looked at him curiously. "What's that?"

"I don't know eveything about Creed, but I do know this. If you keep something that important from him, he will see it as a betrayal. And when someone like him feels betrayed, they are extremely unpredictable."

She nodded and sighed. "I am going to tell him, Nick. I have already been thinking about it. I just don't know when or how. "

"The sooner you tell him, the better, " Nick said.

"Tell me what," Victor rumbled from the door way.

Lissa's heart almost stopped. She knew her face had completely drained of color. And worst of all, thanks to his nose, she knew he could smell how terrified she was.

She tried to smile, but couldn't quite get her mouth to work. "Victor, sweetie...we need to talk."

A/N: I really wasn't trying to make this chapter a cliffhanger, it's just that this was a good stopping point. There will be more soon.


	15. Chapter 15

Natural Selection Chapter 15

A/N: I hope that people will like this chapter. It may get a little emotional. I am trying to write a chapter that isn't a cliffhanger, so we will see how that goes. J Oh, and fair warning: this is where the plot thickens.

In the thirty seconds it took Victor to reply to Lissa's statement, a number of scenarios went through his head. One of them involved him leaping across the room and tearing out Fury's throat. When he had left Lissa here, it had been because he thought she would be safe. He could smell fear rolling off of her in waves and he knew that somehow, Fury was to blame. He couldn't help the low, rumbling growl that came from his throat. He glared at Fury.

Lissa gave a small, shaky laugh and the scent of her fear disappated a bit. " You should go," she said to Nick.

His eyes were on Victor as he asked, " Are you sure?"

"It's not me he's pissed at," she replied.

He nodded once and stood up. "You have the call button. Use it if you need to. I'll inform the staff you aren't to be disturbed otherwise." He walked to the doorway where Victor stood, trying to set him on fire with his eyes.

"Listen to what she has to say and behave yourself Creed."

Victor didn't bother replying, he just sneered at him. He waited until Fury had left the room before turning his attention to Lissa.

She looked more nervous now than terrified, but he knew that he was the source of that nervousness. He sighed. He didn't want that. He wanted her to be comfortable, at ease around him.

He walked over the bed and pulled the chair Fury had been sitting in and pulled it closer to the bed before sitting down.

"So did Nick convince you that I'm Satan?"

She didn't look at him as she replied,"No."

"Huh," he mused. "I thought for sure he'd try."

"Oh, he did. Try, I mean. He just wasn't successful."

He grinned. "Really? And why is that?"

She finally looked at him and the bleakness in her eyes wiped the smile off his face. "Because I'm pretty sure I have already met Satan and you bear absolutely no resemblance."

Nick sat in his office staring at the perpetual motion machine Stark had given him for Christmas the year before. Or maybe the year before last. He really wasn't sure. Lately all the holidays had been blending together with all the earth shattering crisises that SHIELD had been dealing with. He was staring at the little machine made of tiny hanging cables and steel ball bearings in an effort to focus on anything other than his desire to turn on his computer monitor and watch what was going on in Lissa's room. Every part of the SHIELD facility had surveilance cameras, just not everyone had access to them, or the data they recorded. This was to ensure some privacy for the operatives who worked at the facilty, but still ensure security.

Walking out of that room, leaving her alone with that monster, went against everything he believed in. Sure, Sean said that he had made real progress, and was making some attempt to rejoin civilization, but you couldn't ever really tame a tiger. Just ask Siegfried and Roy.

He grit his teeth and reached out a hand to set the little machine into motion. She had a call button, he told himself. If she needed help, she would have it.

"Okay," Victor said softly. "You are going to have to explain that statement to me."

" I know." Her hands smoothed the blankets laying across her legs. It wasn't really a stalling tactic. She just didn't know where to begin.

The curiousity was eating him alive, but he knew better than to push her. Everything about her seemed fragile right now, and it was only partially because of her injuries.

She looked at him from the corner of her eye and asked, " How much did that dossier thing you had done cover on me?"

"Just the basics, I guess. Why?" He was a little confused. He had thought she would be asking him more questions about his past, not inquiring about his knowledge of hers.

She cleared her throat twice before answering. "Did it mention that I was adopted?"

"No." Dammit! How was that missed? His tech must be slipping. What did that have to do with anything, anyway?

"Oh, well I was adopted," she said flatly.

"Okay," he said carefully.

She was silent for so long, he thought the conversation might be over.

"My real name, my birth name I mean, was Melissa Mayfield," she paused. "I was adopted after my mother was killed." Her hands clenched and unclenched. He wanted to take her hands in his, but he was afraid if he touched her right now, she might break or bolt.

"My father killed my mother and almost killed me. Obviously, he couldn't have custody of me." Her flat monotone didn't at all match her bodies posture, or the myriad of scents rolling off of her. Fear, anger, disgust. It smelled so strongly to him that he could almost taste it on his tongue.

"How old were you," he asked quietly.

"Ten. Just ten actually. It was two weeks after my tenth birthday." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I was in a couple of foster homes before the Montgomeries. The homes I was in, they weren't good. They were pretty bad actually, just not as bad as I was used to."

He kept himself perfectly still as he listened to her. He didn't know for sure where this conversation would lead, but he knew that he wasn't going to like it.

"How long were you bounced around," he asked her.

"Just about a year," she replied. "When I met the Montgomeries, I thought they were just like everyone else, only they could fake it better , you know?"

He nodded. "But they weren't," he stated.

She smiled a little. "No. They were the real deal. They were like storybook parents."

"Storybook parents?"

She chuckled. " You know, the kind of parents all kids wish for, even if they have a good set already."

No. He didn't know. Not really, but he nodded anyway. "They were good to you," he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"They were beyond good to me. They were phenomenal. They were so patient and kind and they didn't care how broken I am, they wanted me anyway."

"Hey now, babydoll, I don't think you're broken." He protested softly, but firmly.

She reached out and took his hand in hers. "Oh Victor, that's so sweet, but...you're wrong."

He squeezed her hand gently. "Lissa, there isn't anything wrong with you."

"Once again, you are sweet, but wrong." She sighed. "You really need to let me explain. It's a little more complicated than you think."

He nodded. "Okay. I can do that. But you need to understand something first."

"What," she asked.

"No matter what you tell me, nothing between us will change. You are mine. You always will be." He stared at her as he said it, his eyes locked with hers.

Nick looked up from the paper work he was completing as Stark strolled into his office.

"Hey Nicky," he called out as he ambled over and plunked down in the chair in front of Fury's desk uninvited.

Wonderful, he thought to himself. Just what I need to round out my day. The brain of a genuis, the libido of a teenager , and the impulse control of a toddler all trapped in one person's body- Tony Stark. A sigh escaped him before he could contain it. He winced as he saw Tony grin. Dammit! Once Stark knew he had gotten to you, you were doomed.

Stark leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk. "Sooooo Nicky, ' he drawled. " I heard a very juicy rumor a couple of days ago and thought I'd see if you knew anything about it."

"Is it about the Hulk's fascination with women's lingerie? And get your feet off my desk," Fury growled.

Stark blinked at him in surprise. "The Hulk has a thing for women's lingerie?" He shook his head and quickly refocused. "No, it's not about that. And I wouldn't have to use your desk if you'd get some sort of ottoman in here."

Fury snorted. "Yeah. That's what I should do. Get an ottoman. Maybe some throw pillows and a couple of bean bag chairs too?"

"That's the spirit, Nicky! Then this will be like the cool place to hang out! All the other SHIELD facilities will be so jealous."

Fury didn't even bother to glare at him. What was the point really? Speaking of points..." Was there a point to your visit, or was it just to brighten my day?"

"I told you, Nicky. I heard a rumor. A slightly disturbing one in fact." For once Stark looked serious. Uh-oh. That wasn't good.

"What did you hear?"

Stark sat upright in his chair and put his feet on the floor. "It's a two part rumor, in point of fact. I heard that SHIELD is considering putting some of the students from Xavier's school on the Avengers as alternates. Also, that SHIELD, or at least some people in SHIELD are considering putting Creed on as a part time member."

Fury stared at Stark, who stared back at him with an almost pleasant expression on his face. To anyone else, it would look as if Stark was just chatting with his ally and sometimes commander. But Fury knew better. Stark was pissed.

Stark stared at him. "This is the part where you tell me it's all bullshit, Nicky."

Fury shrugged. "Can't do that, Tony."

Stark exploded. "Are you serious? What the fuck are you thinking? Xavier's students are just kids! They'll get themselves killed, or worse. And Creed? Jesus Christ, Nick! He's a fucking animal! No one wants to work with him."

Fury smiled tightly. "First of all, I don't have to justify SHIELD's decisions, or mine. Secondly, I agree with you on most of those points. Especially about Creed being an animal."

Stark threw his hands up in the air. "Then why? What is going on?"

"It's complicated, Tony."

Stark glared at him. "So are the laws of motion and thermodynamics and I understand those,' he snapped.

Fury inclined his head. "Okay. I will tell you. On one condition."

"What's the condition," he asked warily.

"The only other person besides myself who knows the whole situation, is Cap and it needs to stay that way." He pointed at Stark. "No pillow talk with Pepper on this one, Tony. People could and probably will die if this gets out before we have certain contingencies in place."

Stark was silent for a moment. "Fine," he said curtly. "Now spill, Nick."

Fury scrubbed a hand over his face. God, he was tired. This was another conversation he didn't want to have. How could he even begin to explain this to Stark without opening up several different cans of worms. Even if he only told him the basics, Stark was smart enough to read between the lines and fill in the gaps. He was also smart enough to investigate on his own without being caught. That could actually be a good thing.

"As you may or may not know, SHIELD has some psychics in our employ."

"You mean telepaths, " Stark cut in.

"No. I mean psychics. Seers. People who have accurate visions of our future. Prognosticators."

"And they've what? Seen something," Stark asked skeptically.

Fury steepled his fingers together and rested his chin on them. "Tony, they have seen a lot. Multiple futures, multiple timelines, all based on the different choices we make. They see almost everything. And therein lies our problem."

"You've lost me,Nick."

Fury pressed a button on his desk and a see through computer touch screen came down from the ceiling above his desk.

Stark grinned. "Glad to see you enjoying one of my modifications."

Fury smiled back tightly. "Omen," he said softly, but clearly.

A computerized voice answered. "Voice recognition: Nick Fury. Code Omen acknowledged. "

The screen lit up and several file folders appeared. Fury tapped his finger on one and it opened . A photograph of a rather plain looking man appeared. Underneath the man's picture was a list of text documents. Fury looked down the list and pulled one off to the side.

He looked at Stark. "Whenever we have a session with one of our psychics, we transcribe as well as record it."

"Why," Stark asked. "Wouldn't the recording be enough?"

"Oh, it's more than enough," Fury said a little darkly."Have you ever seen a psychic, Tony? I mean a real one?"

Stark shook his head. "I've met a couple of telepaths though."

"Not really the same animal. When a psychic focuses on a certain event, has a vision, or whatever you want to call it, it can get ugly. A lot of the time, they can't shut it down , or turn their power off, even if they want to, until the vision plays itself out. They have to see the whole thing, no matter how terrifying, disgusting , or just plain evil it is."

"That's fucking horrible," Stark stated. "Now I want a drink."

Fury smirked. If Stark thought he wanted a drink now, he was going to want a whole bottle, hell a whole bar in a few minutes. "So we transcribe it for when we want to reference it, and keep the original recordings in a vault somewhere."

Fury tapped on other file folders and pulled some other documents off to the side with the first one. When he was finished, he closed all the file folders.

He was about to tap on the first document, when he paused. He looked through the screen at Stark. "Are you sure you really want to know? Once you know this, you can't go back. There is no unknowing this."

He watched Stark, waiting for a reply.

Lissa could feel some color returning to her face. She was almost ashamed at the sense of relief she felt at his words. How messed up was it that implied ownership somehow made her feel more secure? How many of her female friends would bristle and hiss like cats at the mere idea? How many feminists were rolling over in their graves right now?

She raised her chin at him. "I'm my own too, Victor. Don't forget that."

He suppressed his smile. He didn't want her to misunderstand. It wasn't that he found her statement cute or amusing. He wasn't humoring her. He was just happy to see a little spirit after seeing her eyes so bleak.

"I know that. I wouldn't want you to be any other way. I want us together, I mean, we are going to be together, but I don't ..." he paused, unsure as to how to continue. "It's not about me being in charge of you, or dominating you. I don't want that. I want us to be partners."

She looked down at the bed for a moment and when she looked at him again, her eyes were wet. Oh hell, he didn't want her to cry! He was about to comfort her when she spoke.

"Come here, Victor."

He scooted a little closer .

"Closer," she whispered.

He moved close enough that their knees were almost touching.

She reached up and put her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him to her. She pressed her lips against his for a moment and then pulled away.

He stared at her, gobsmacked.

She just smiled at him and ran her fingers through his hair.

He wanted to wrap his arms around her and kiss her until neither one of them could breathe. He wanted to feel her mouth part beneath his and feel his tongue brush against hers. He wanted to know her taste like he already knew her scent. Instead, he reined himself in.

"What was that for," he asked her.

"I just wanted to."

He took one of her hands and kissed it gently. "I'm glad."

"I should be terrified of you, Victor. But I'm not."

He lowered his eyes. "Why aren't you? I know that I do scare you sometimes, so why aren't you scared of me all the time?"

She shrugged. " I can handle you."

His eyebrows shot up and almost touched the ceiling. "Excuse me?"

She giggled at his expression. An honest to God giggle. "You aren't a monster, Victor. At least not the kind of monster you think you are."

"Really," he said skeptically.

She nodded. "You have the killer instinct. There's no denying that, but you're different. It's not some random mindless urge anymore is it?"

He thought for a moment. "I need to hurt people sometimes. Or kill them. It's like something building up inside me, trying to claw it's way out."

"So if I made you mad, you'd hurt me," she asked him, already knowing the answer.

"Hell no," he barked out. "I'd go out and find some asshole who deserved it."

She smiled. "See? You're my kind of monster."

He saw her smile, a cat who got the canary smile, and was totally confused.

Tony Stark sat across from Nick Fury and did something he rarely did. He stopped to think about the possible consequences of something he wanted to do. It wasn't that he was irresponsible, or lacked common sense, it was just that with a genius i.q. and billions of dollars at his disposal, there weren't many consequences he couldn't handle. This was different. This was a complete unknown and apparently, lives hung in the balance. Also, he couldn't use Pepper as a sounding board.

He drummed his fingers on the tabletop while he considered his options. If Cap already knew, the he should know too. Steve Rodgers was a great strategist and tactical thinker, but in a lot of ways, he was innocent. He trusted the goverment way too much; believed that the goverment always had the best interest of it's people in mind. Stark was a cynic. He had to be. Being born wealthy and losing his parents at such a young age had made him vulnerable and people had been all too willing to take advantage. Then there was that whole mess the Stane. Those experiences had left a bad taste in his mouth, and if it hadn't been for Pepper and Rhodey, he would have probably destroyed himself.

He looked stared throught the screen to look at Fury's face. Fury looked more serious than usual, and tired. It wasn't his trademark stoicism, it was something more. A weariness that wasn't in the body, but the soul. If it could affect Nick Fury this way, did he really want to know? He sighed.

"If I was privy to this information, would there be a way I could actually help, or would I just be another anchor around your neck, Nicky?"

Of all the things he had expected to comeout of Stark's mouth, that wasn't one of them. He thought for a moment. Stark had contacts and access to things that SHIELD didn't. He was also good at thinking outside of the box, and circumventing the rules. Add his bulldog like tenaciousness to the equation and yeah, Stark could be extremely helpful. Of course, he wasn't going to admit all that to Stark. The man's ego was big enough as it was, he certainly wasn't going to add to it.

"You have resources we don't," he answered carefully.

"I'm in,"Stark answered simply.

"There are a lot of ways that I could explain it to you, Victor. But the most simple is this: Maybe you are a monster, as you keep claiming. Maybe you aren't. If you are, you are a monster that I understand and know how to live with. Maybe even a monster I could grow to love."

It was wierd how words could lift him up and crush him at the same time. He wanted her to live with him, be with him because she wanted to, not out of some sense of sacrifice or obligation. She shook her head at him, as if reading his thoughts.

"No. It isn't like that. I am not Beauty and you aren't the Beast. I am not sacrificing myself to you. I am not some damsel in distress. Okay?"

She waited for him to nod before continuing. "There will have to be ground rules. For both of us. Not just you. Eventually, we won't need them, but until we...know each other better we should have them."

"What kind of rules?" He was curious to see what she would come up with.

"You do not abuse me in any way. Ever. I am sure you know what the definition of abuse is. If you don't, ask Sean. I am sure she will fill you in." She watched him for a reaction. He just nodded in agreement.

He cleared his throat."If I tell you to do something, and it sounds like I am issuing a command, just do it and bitch at me for it later. I won't ever just order you around, so if I use like a," he paused for a second, unsure of how to phrase it. " A military tone, " he continued." Then it is for your or my safety, not just because I am being a prick." He paused again. He gently reached out and lifted her chin so he was staring directly into her eyes. "On things like that, I will demand and expect your complete obedience. I will not have your safety compromised for any reason, regardless of your feelings on the matter."

She nodded slowly. She didn't like the idea of following orders, but she understood his reasoning. "No lying to me, Victor. Not ever. If you can't tell me something because it's classified, fine. Just don't ever lie to me, I despise it and it will kill any trust I have for you." Her tone was imperious.

"Anything else," he asked her.

She thought for a moment and then nodded. "You say that I am yours. Okay, fine. That makes you mine. Only mine. No cheating on me, Victor. I won't stand for it. Not even once."

He grinned at her. He hadn't expected that, but hearing it, well he liked it. He liked the thought of her having a little possessive streak. 'Not a problem," he said. "And the same goes for you. I'd probably kill anyone who touched you, so unless you are planning some twisted revenge murder scheme, don't even think of being with another man. Or woman."

She rolled her eyes. "Not really my thing."

He smirked. "Twisted revenge murder schemes? Or women?"

"Neither, you jackass."

He laughed out loud at that. "Ouch, babydoll. That hurt."

"You just wait until I am better. You'll see what hurt is then," she promised.

"Shaking in my boots, babydoll. Absolutely terrified," he replied in a deadpan tone.

She sighed. "I will figure out a way to get you, you know."

He reached out and took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. He kissed each of her fingers and then nibbled on the pads of them gently. "Lissa, you've already got me. Now you just have to decide what to do with me." He kissed the palm of her hand and then leaned forward to kiss her. He traced his tongue along her bottom lip and when she gasped in surprise, he gently thrust his tongue inside her mouth, He almost moaned at the taste of her and when her tongue thrust back against his, it took all of his tenuous self control not to push her back wards and just ravage her.

With colossal effort, he pulled away from her. Her eyes were dilated and her face was flushed. He could smell desire on her and it was killing him. It was killing him because she was right there, and she definitely wanted him and he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

She laughed a little shakily. "Jesus, Victor." She touched her fingers to her kiss swollen mouth, "Maybe we shouldn't do that again until I am all healed up."

He was instantly concerned. "I didn't hurt you did I ?"

She shook her head. "No, you didn't hurt me. I am going to be frustrated for a while though."

He grinned his Victor Creed smile number fourteen- his patented why-yes-I-am-a-sex-God, thank-you-so-much-for-asking-smile.

His smile only intensified as a fresh wave of desire rolled off of her.

She shook her head as if to clear it. Her face was suddenly serious. "Victor, I have one more rule."

"What is it?"

She bit her lip and looked a little embarassed. "I don't really know how to say it."

He rolled his eyes. "Just say it."

She frowned at him. "If we ever, um...if we were to have...children," she paused and looked everywhere in the room but him. "If we have kids, the same rules apply to them. If you don't want kids, then fine, but if you are thinking of kids, I ..." she broke off again. "You have to care for them, the way you care for me. No kids at all unless you can agree to that. I got lucky with the Montgomeries. my life before them was hell and I won't subject any child to that ever."

He could see her hands shaking as she spoke. His nose told him it wasn't fear though, it was rage. He approved. Apparently his primitive insticts had chosen a mate who would protect her young in any way she could.

"Lissa," he said softly. "I swear to you that I will never hurt you or any children we may have. I will do everything in my power to protect you and our whatever family we have. Anyone, and I mean anyone who hurts our family will answer to me."

She nodded her head jerkily. "Good," she murmured.

Fury tapped his finger on the icon for the first text document and then several others, displaying them at the same time. He gave Stark a moment to look them over

Stark frowned thoughtully. "These are remarkably similar."

"They are," Fury agreed.

"Have any of these psychics met each other? Is there any way that these...projections of the future could be tampered with somehow?"

Fury shook his head. "No. We had them all vetted by our telepaths. If any of them have ever crossed paths, they don't remember it."

Something caught Stark's eye. He tapped on the text document, bringing it up in it's entirety. He highlighted the first two sentences, clicked and dragged them off to the side.

It read: Mid-year 2015 it begins. Humanity divided, mutants rising.

Huh. Interesting, but in itself not to ominous. "Nick, have you run the full documents through any pattern or word recognition programs?"

"Yes."

Stark stared at him, waiting. Fury just smirked at him. He rolled his eyes. "Can I see the results, please?'

"Omen, configuration 2.6."

"Omen configuration 2.6 running now," the computerized voice answered.

A block of text appeared on the screen,

It read: Mid-year 2015, it begins. Humanity divided, mutants rising,

Prayers for peace are answered briefly, but deception leads us all astray

It rains blood as the best of both sides destroy each other

no one knows who the real enemy is

it/He/They come and then the earth is empty

There are none left to fight it/He/Them

We are undone.

Stark sat silently after reading the text. "That seems a little melodramatic, and also a little vague."

Fury nodded. "It was. That's why we have Omen 3.2." he tapped the screen again and said, "Omen 3.2."

A video popped up and began playing.

A young male, around twenty or so, began speaking. " It isn't until the end that we figure it out; how we were all lied to, manipulated. We were taught to hate each other, fear each other so that we would be divided, so we wouldn't share resources or information. " He pauses, taking a breath before continuing. "But it's too late. There aren't enough left on either side to make a decent stand." He pauses again and he is tilting his head to the side like he is looking at something way in the distance. He purses his lips. "Maybe, maybe if we had gotten the brothers, the ones who don't die, maybe we would have had a chance then. But we didn't. We could have, someone knew, someone could have mended, fixed, but they didn't. I don't know why. Can't see." He is sweating and becoming agitated. "2015. It starts. 2015. It all starts. I don't know who fires the first shot. It doesn't matter. Not really. It starts. 2015,2015,2015,2015,2015-"

Fury tapped the screen and the video stopped playing. "That's all he says until," he paused.

"Until what," Stark asked.

Fury took a deep breath. "Until his heart stopped and he stopped talking."

Stark stared at him in disbelief. "He died? From that? That can happen?"

Fury nodded. "Some psychics can't break free of it. It just eats them up." He shrugged.

"How many?"

"How many what, Tony?"

"Don't play with me, Nick. How many psychics have you lost to this?"

Fury sighed. "Seven. But we are more careful now. About what we ask, how far we let them look."

Stark rubbed his hands over his eyes. What a nightmare. "Does anyone actually have any idea what it is that's coming?"

"Yes...and no. It's complicated. I-"

A computerized voice cut him off. "Dr. Hank Pym is arriving for his four thirty appointment. He does not have clearance for projects currently displayed. Classified materials protocol engaged."

The touch screen went blank for a moment and then a screen saver of a aquarium appeared on it.

"I have clearance, but Pym doesn't?"

Fury shrugged. "The computer assumed you had clearance when I brought up the materials for you to look at. I will enter you in later as a consultant on the project. You'll have actual clearance then. You'll be able to access the project on your own. Just make sure you are at a secure terminal."

Stark nodded and stood up. "Apparently, you have an engagement scheduled. I wouldn't want to cut into your time with Hank." He turned and started to walk out of Fury's office. When he got to the door, Fury called out to him.

"You'll want to look at Omen 4.0 and 7.6 next. Then maybe you can tackle all of the text documents."

"Why those two first," he asked curiously.

"I think you will find those especially interesting." Fury smiled at him and he felt a shiver go down his spine. He nodded once to Fury and then left, almost bumping into Pym on his way out.

They had been sitting together in companionable silence for a while when she suddenly stiffened.

"What's wrong,' he asked, worried.

"Two things. One, my pain meds are wearing off and two, I need to tell you more about my past before we get too comfortable and I lose my nerve."

He smiled and said, "First things first." He reached over and pressed his thumb on the call nurse button.

She smiled at him. "So glad you have your priorities sorted out."

He chuckled a little and then sobered. "You know, Lissa, we don't have to talk about this all at once. We have plenty of time. We can do it a little bit at a time. You don't have any reason to rush or be nervous. I told you, there is nothing you can say that is going to change the fact that you're mine."

She nodded. "Okay. We can do it that way, but there is one thing I need to tell you because it, well it could affect me soon."

"What?"

"My father, he's in jail, and well...I don't know how he manages to do it, but he always does." She smelled upset, angry and a little afraid all at once.

"How he does what," he growled.

"He finds me," she stated simply. "Every year on my birthday, he sends me a card or a letter. I have moved, I have an unlisted phone number and address. I don't know how he does it, but he does and I know I shouldn't even read them because it's never anything good, it's always sick and cruel, saying horrible things about me or my mother, but I do read them. It's almost like I can't help it. Like I keep hoping that I will open one and instead of it being some sick joke, it'll be an apology or an explanation, or something that will help me instead of hurt me." She swallowed and took a deep breath but didn't say anything.

He went completely still. "Did you ever contact the police about it," he asked.

"Yeah. If they ever found out anything about it, they didn't tell me."

"You're birthday is in two weeks," he stated.

She nodded. "Yeah. That's why I'm telling you now. I tend to be a little skittish just before my birthday, and then a complete wreck for a couple days after."

"Not this year , Lissa. This year is going ro be different," he promised.

She looked a little alarmed. "You can't kill him, Victor. I mean, you could physically, but you shouldn't. I mean, I don't want you to get into any trouble," she said nervously.

He leaned forward. "What if I wouldn't get into trouble?"

She thought about it for a moment. He could see the war going on inside her head play on her face. "No," she said finally.

"Why not," he asked.

"Death is too easy. I know how he was, how he probably still is. He hates prison. He hates any kind of rules, or being told what to do. I like the idea of him suffering there, rotting." Her tone was venomous and there were sparks in her eyes. This was the Lissa he liked so much, the fiery , take no prisoners Lissa.

"Okay then babydoll. I'm going to go and talk to some one in Operations about getting your mail screened and figuring out how he keeps finding you," he paused as the nurse entered the room." You are going to get some more pain meds and take a little nap."

She looked into his eyes. "Will you come back after?"

"Of course." Did she even need to ask? Of course, he was going to also go talk to Sean to see if he was handling everything the way he should be and maybe see if Sean would be willing to talk to Lissa, make sure she was allright, but Lissa didn't really need to know that right now.

She smiled at him sweetly and his heart clenched a little. Then her sweet smile turned into a woozy one as the nurse injected painkiller into her i.v.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips gently over hers. "Sweet dreams, babydoll."

She sighed and leaned back into her pillows. Her eyes closed and she was out like a light.

He chuckled softly at the sight.

"Are you planning on sleeping in here, sir," the nurse asked.

"Yes," he answered a little tersely.

"All right. I will have an extra bed set up for you then. It probably won't be all that comfortable,but it will be better than nothing."

"Thank you," he said, a little suprised.

The nurse smiled and went off to make the arrangements. He left just after she did. As he walked down the hallway on his way to the Operations Center, he ran through all the ways he could kill Lissa's father and make it look like an accident. He snorted. No. She would know. He sighed, At the very least, he was going to stop him from harassing Lissa. He could always kill him later.


	16. Chapter 16

Natural Selection Chapter 16

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews. I am glad that people are enjoying the extra plot twists and the addition of project omen. I will be bringing several more Marvel characters into this story because I have a lot of favorites. Stay with me people: The smut is coming (perhaps even with more than one couple).

I can't say that I am thrilled with this chapter. It's more to move the story along and get to the sexy times faster.

She was hiding in the pantry. She had squeezed herself under the lowest shelf, behind the potato bin. She could still hear everything that was going on, though. Her father had come home and he had been in one of his mean moods. Her mother had tried to make him happy. She had brought him his favorite beer, and made spaghetti with extra meat in the sauce. It hadn't worked. He had just gotten meaner. He had gotten upset with how she was eating her spaghetti and held her face in her plate until her mother had made him stop. And then it had really started. He had started screaming and throwing things, he had hit her mother and then he had hit her and for once, her mother had gotten between them, got in the way of her father's fist, and told her to hide. She did. She wasn't stupid. She knew that he was hurting her mother, but there wasn't anything she could do about it, she was too small. She wanted to call the police, but she didn't think they would get there in time.

Why didn't anyone ever do anything? Didn't the neighbors hear? How could they not? Sometimes the screaming didn't stop until her mother was unconscious or her father left to go to the bar. She could hear her father calling her mother names, horrible names, and her mother was crying and begging for him to stop. But he wasn't stopping and she could hear awful sounds, the sounds of someone being hit or kicked over and over again. Her mother wasn't making any noise now. Her heart beat faster and faster. She could feel it in her chest like a drum. It sounded loud in her ears and her whole body was shaking. She willed herself to keep quiet, willed her heart to slow down because she was so afraid he would hear and come for her.

She could hear slow, heavy footsteps coming towards the pantry. She tried to make herself even smaller. If she was lucky, he would just leave, and then she could go check on her mother. If her mother wasn't awake yet, maybe she could call nine one one. She had learned about it at school. You called that number in an emergency and they sent help. Maybe if they came, they would see what had been happening and take her father to jail. She could even tell them what bar he was at, he always went to the same one.

She listened carefully as she fantasized about her father being dragged off to jail, never allowed to return. She couldn't hear anything except her own breathing and her heartbeat, which still sounded too loud to her own ears. Should she move? Should she check on her mother? She hadn't heard him leave, but sometimes he would leave quietly. Her hair was tickling her face and she brushed it back with her hand. Her hand came away sticky. Great, she still had spaghetti sauce in her hair. At least she only got hit once tonight, and it might not even bruise that bad. She should still be able to play at school tomorrow.

She waited a few moments longer, and still didn't hear anything. She was going to have to move soon, not just to check on her mother, she had to pee. She didn't want to go in her pants like some baby. She was ten for crying out loud. She felt more pressure on her bladder. Okay, she had to move.

As quietly as she could, she moved out from behind the bin and crawled towards the pantry door. When she got to the door, she lay flat. and peered underneath the door. She couldn't see anyone's feet close by, but that didn't mean anything. She pushed herself up and put her ear against the door. She couldn't hear anything either. She bit her lip as her bladder warned her again. She squirmed as she tried to think about her options. Okay. She had to go for it.

She twisted the door knob as quietly as she could. It felt like it took forever. She pushed the door open slowly, wincing as the hinges squeaked. Her father wasn't stupid or deaf, he was just mean. He was kind of like the dragon from one of her favorite books, The Hobbit. You could trick him, but you had to be very clever. And you had to quick. She was both, thankfully.

She peeked out of the slightly open door, looking as far left and right as she could without opening the door all of the way. Nothing. No one. And she still couldn't hear anything. she took a deep breath and opened the door further. Still nothing. She inched herself out into the kitchen as quietly as possible and looked around. She couldhear the hiss of the radiator, and the sound of the television from next door, but nothing else. She got to her feet and tiptoed through the kitchen. When she got to the hallway she stopped and peeked her head out. She looked both ways and saw nothing. A sigh of relief escaped her. She continued on to the bathroom. When she got there she quickly closed and locked the door behind her. She relieved herself as fast as she could and then washed her hands. She didn't flush the toilet because it was too loud and if he was still home somewhere, she didn't want to let him know where she was.

She repeated her cautious door opening ritual and started out into the hallway. She needed to check on her mother. She might need a doctor. Usually, even on bad nights, she was already awake, checking to make sure that Lissa hadn't been hurt too badly. Or at least not badly enough that she had to miss school.

She crept down the hallway and into the living room. It was a mess. There was furniture overturned and the coffee table was broken. Where was her mother? She cautiously turned around and that's when she saw it. A pair of legs was jutting out from behind the couch. She gasped softly and raced over. She knew it was her mother even before she got there.

Her mother was lying on her side, facing away from her. She reached out and gently shook her.

"Mom," she whispered. "Mom, c'mon you've got to wake up now." Her mother didn't stir or respond. An awful feeling settled in her stomach. She shooker her a little harder.

"Mom," she whispered louder, almost talking. "Get up. Dad's gone, you can get up now." Her mother still didn't wake up. Should she call nine one one? Her mother would be upset if they came and she was awake when they got here.

"Mom, if you don't get up, I am going to call the ambulance people." She tried to make her voice sound firm, but it shook at the end. She pulled at her mother's shoulder to roll her over. She flopped over bonelessly and Lissa cried out at what she saw. Her mother's hair was matted down with blood and her eyes were open and staring vacantly.

"Mommy?" Her mother didn't reply, couldn't reply. She reached out and touched her mother's chest. She couldn't feel anything. She leaned over, and pressed her ear to her mother's chest. She couldn't hear anything either. She put her hand by her mother's nose. She couldn't feel any air coming out. What should she do? Was her mother dead? For a moment shock and horror paralyzed her. Everything seemed to stop. She didn't even breathe. Then, everything rushed back. She gasped in a breath and pushed herself to her feet. She had to call for help now. Maybe her mommy wasn't really dead. Maybe she was, but she was only mostly dead. Sometimes people could be saved.

She started to look for the phone. If the neighbors hadn't come to help when things had gotten so loud, she figured they would be pretty useless now. She turned around in a circle slowly. It wasn't on the coffee table, or on the bookshelf. Maybe it was in the kitchen. Mommy liked to sit in there to talk sometimes.

She went into the kitchen and sighed in relief when she saw the phone on the kitchen table. She started towards it. She heard the sound of the refrigerator door closing. She froze. Slowly she turned her head. Her father was standing in front of the refrigerator holding a beer. His eyes were on her. She glanced at him and then back to the phone. It was eight, maybe ten steps away, but she knew she would never make it.

"What'cha you doin', Lissa," he asked her. His tone was sly, like he already knew.

She looked at him. He was smiling. Like there was some huge joke and only he got it. It turned her stomach. How could he do that to mommy and then smile?

"Nothing, daddy," she answered him quietly.

"Nothin' huh?" He nodded, still smiling. "You sure?"

Her mouth was so dry she could barely swallow the lump in her throat. "Yes daddy." She tried to smile and knew she had failed horribly when her father's smile got even larger.

He took a step towards her and she forced herself to stand still. "Have you seen your mom?" His tone was friendly, but she knew better. She also knew better than to try to lie.

She nodded. "She'd in the living room. She's still...sleeping," she answered carefully.

He barked out a laugh. "Yeah. Yeah she is." His face went suddenly blank. "You think she'll wake up," he asked her.

Her hands started to shake and she could feel tears forming in her eyes. He knew. He knew mommy was dead and he knew he had killed her. He was just toying with her now, and when he got tired of that, maybe he would kill her too.

She forced herself to speak evenly as she asked, "Why wouldn't she?"

They stared at each other . Every fiber of her being was telling her to run. But she knew better. He would catch her, he always did and when he did, he would hurt her. This time was going to be worse. She knew that, just like she knew that even if she could call the ambulance people now, it would be too late. The only thing she could do now, was try to survive. How though, could she make it out of this? Her father was too big, and too fast.

She watched him carefully for signs that he was going to come closer or attack. He smiled at her like he knew what she was thinking and leaned back against the refrigerator door.

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. She tried to force a blank expression onto her face, and the sly smile finally faded from his.

"C'mere Lissa," he ordered.

She stalled. "Why?"

"Because I said so," he said quietly.

She swallowed. "Okay," she said. He smiled and relaxed against the refrigerator again. She took a step towards him and then quickly turned and bolted out of the kitchen door.

She was halfway through the living room before he caught her. He grabbed her by her hair and threw her to the floor. She couldn't even yell as all the wind was knocked out of her.

"You little bitch," he yelled. "What do you think you're doing? Running away from me?" He leaned down and slapped her across the face so hard her head turned. Tear stung her eyes. She couldn't help crying, she hated it, but she couldn't help it.

"You're gonna cry now? You're just like her," he said in disgust.

She continued to cry, her fear and pain getting the better of her.

"You want something to cry about," he asked her.

She shook her head.

"I'll give you something to cry about," he promised.

He yanked her off the floor and then threw her again, this time into the wall. She tried to catch herself, but he had thrown her so hard that when she hit the wall, her wrist was bent back. She cried out in pain as it cracked.

"Shut up," he screamed at her. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" He puncuated each shut up by slamming her head against the wall. She wondered if this was what he had done to her mother.

She tried to stay quiet, to stop crying, but she couldn't, not completely. Her head throbbed with pain and she was so scared, more scared than she had ever been before.

He pulled her away from the wall and yanked her around to face him. He leaned in close, sticking his face in hers. His nose almost touched hers and she could smell his rancid beer breath, "Did you really think you could get away from me?"

She shook her head, but didn't dare say a word.

He shook her. "Answer me, dammit!"

"N-no," she stuttered out.

He wrapped his fingers around her throat and began to squeeze. "You will never get away from me, Lissa. Never." His hand continued to squeeze her throat, completely cutting off her air supply. She clawed at his hand, but it had no effect. Her vision was starting to get blurry, whether from her tear or lack of air she wasn't sure. Everything was getting darker around the edges, like the entire world was getting dimmer. The funny thing was, she was almost a little relieved, because after this, at least she wouldn't hurt anymore. She let her eyes close as the world went completely black.

Lissa awoke gasping for air. She was competely disoriented for a moment. Everything came back to her slowly. She was at a SHIELD facilty to recover. She was safe here. She wasn't ten anymore, and no one was strangling her. She took some deep breaths to try and slow her breathing. Hyperventilating probably wasn't the best way to convince the medical staff to finally just please, please, please let her get out of bed. Part of her was glad that Victor wasn't here and part of her wanted him there in the worst way.

Her throat felt dry and scratchy. She looked at her bedside table and saw that her drinking glass was empty. She sighed and pressed the call button. A nurse bustled in.

"What can I do for you, Lissa," she asked, her tone way to cheery for the insanely early hour.

"I am out of water, and my throats a little dry."

The nurse nodded. "Okay, I'll get you some water, and when I get back I will give your vitals a quick check, so long as you're awake."

Lissa smiled wanly and the nurse retreated to go get her water. The medical staff at this SHIELD facilty were absolutely fabulous. They were all competant and seemed to really enjoy helping people. She hadn't expected that at a government facility.

Soon enough, the nurse was back. "Okay, sweetie. Here you go." She handed Lissa her water. She closed her eyes as the cool, refreshing liquid eased the ache in her throat. She took a few sips before setting the cup down on the night table.

"Okie-dokie, I'm just going to get your blood pressure and temperature really quick. After that, you can go back to sleep if you want, or we can try going to the bathroom again." Lissa grimaced at the nurses ever so cheerful tone. They had taken the catheter out a couple of days ago, but so far the only time she had been able to urinate had been in the shower. The doctor said not to worry yet, that sometimes having a catheter in for a long period of time tended to make the bladder and urinary tract sluggish. If it was still happening in a couple of days, then they would check things out, but for right now she was just supposed to drink as much as possible and keep trying.

"Hmm," the nurse said to herself.

"What," Lissa asked.

"Well, you're blood pressure is a little higher than normal."

"Oh. Well, I had a bad dream. Kinda got my heart racing." Lissa smiled sheepishly.

"Yup, that could do it," the nurse agreed. "Still, we'll check again in a little bit just to be on the safe side."

Lissa nodded her agreement. "So, have you heard anything about whether they're going to let me out of bed yet,' she asked hopefully.

The nurse smiled. "Well sweetie, I will make a deal with you. I will help you to the bathroom and you try to go again, and I will put in a good word for you with the doctors."

Lissa crinkled her nose and the nurse laughed, "C'mon now, up and at 'em."

Lissa swung her legs over the side of the bed and held her arm out. The nurse gently grasped her arm and let her do most of the work. Her legs were a little wobbly, but she figured that was because she hadn't really been doing anything besides laying in bed for the past two weeks.

Together, they slowly walked to the bathroom and the nurse helped her get herself situated befroe turning away.

She walked over to the bathroom sink and turned the water on. Lissa laughed a little. "What," the nurse asked. "Sometimes it helps a little. My nephew can't hear running water without having to go and he's twenty three."

Lissa laughed again and suddenly she was urinating. On her own. Her nurse looked over at her and grinned.

"See? What did I tell you? It works."

Lissa grinned back. It probably wouldn't seem like much to most people, but, peeing on her own made her feel like she was one step closer to getting her name off the bedridden invalid list.

Tony Stark rubbed his eyes tiredly. He had been staring at a computer screen for six hours straight trying to make sense of vague premonitions, and medieval sounding omens. He had been able to piece together some parts that had similar or even the same lines, but he wasn't even a quarter of the way through the text files.

He felt like he was missing something, or that there was some vital piece of information he didn't have yet. It was like when he was designing something. Every piece, no matter how small mattered because it was functional, part of the design. Maybe when he made it through more of the files, he would have a better idea of what the design was. As blueprints and schematics went, these were pretty unorganized. He sighed. He really wanted to find something significant. Just to see the look on Fury's face. He smirked a little and went back to work.

SHIELD hadn't had any trouble finding out how Lissa's father had been finding her. Apparently, he had blackmailed a prison guard into hiring a private detective. It had actually been really simple. Victor wasn't sure what disturbed him more: how easily Lissa's father had been able to do it, or how inept and unconcerned the police had been when Lissa had contacted them.

He stood in front of the chain link gate and stared at the imposing brick building that managed to convey government facilty and tax payer fueled criminal breeding ground at the same time. He had been in places like this a few times in his life and he had found that they were all mostly the same. If you weren't a career criminal when you went in, you would be when you left. He knew maybe eight people who actually went to prison and cleaned up their act and actually led productive lives after they were released.

There was a buzzing sound and the gate slowly slid open. He walked up to the ugly grey metal door and waited to be buzzed in. The buzzer rang and he pulled the door open and walked in. He was immediately assualted with the twin scents of fear and desperation and this was just the sign in area. Christ. He grimaced in disgust and hoped his business here wouldn't take long.

A man in a cheap suit was walking towards him with a look of consternation on his face. He was probably the warden, or some other meaningless government official. Victor sighed and tried to keep his facial expression neutral.

"Mr. Creed," the man asked.

"Yes," Victor replied.

" Dale Worth. I'm the warden here." Bingo, Victor thought. He didn't say anything though. He just waited and stared at the self important little prick.

After a moment, the warden realized Victor was not impressed. "Well, Mr. Creed," he started.

Victor cut him off. "Agent Creed," he said.

The warden blinked at him a little stupidly. "I'm sorry?"

"It's Agent Creed," Victor said.

The warden cleared his throat. "Yes, well...Agent Creed, this is all highly irregular. I was told you were coming here to privately interview one of my prisoners, but not why."

"That's classified," Victor replied, trying his damndest to keep a straight face.

The warden scoffed. "Surely you can tell me something."

Victor shrugged. "All I can tell you is that we are investigating a security breach."

The warden's jaw dropped. "That's not possible! Our security is the best, it's updated more frquently than three other prisons in this region!"Victor just shrugged again. "Hopefully my investigation will prove you right. If not..." he deliberately let the sentence trail off. He wanted the warden nervous and on edge. He held him completely responsible for the corrupt guard that Lissa's father had been able to blackmail. The warden should have known what was going on in his prison, right underneath his nose. Hell, maybe he did. Maybe he was part of the problem. Things like that had happened before in the prison systems.

The warden glared at him and motioned him throught the metal detectors. They didn't go off. Victor always found that sort of amusing. While some parts of him, like his claw tips, were laced with adamantium, metal detectors very rarely picked up on it at all. Most metal detectors were designed to detect specific types of metal, like the kind that guns and knives were made of.

"You're not armed," the warden asked when the metal detectors remained silent.

Victor smiled. "I don't carry a gun."

"That seems odd for a government agent," the warden said, his tone suspicious.

"I've never really found them necessary." Victor kept his tone even, almost bland. From past experience, he knew this would push the wardens buttons. Men like the warden thought guns were the end all be all, the perfect solution for any situation. Victor liked it a little more up close and personal. He'd had enough of guns by the end of the Vietnam Conflict. He had to use them occasionally when on missions for SHIELD, but given the choice, he always preferred his own claws.

The warden made a harrumphing sound. " I assume you know the rules in regards to prisoner visitation and interrogation?"

"I do."

The warden's eyes narrowed and he started to say something before closing his mouth and shaking his head.

"I will need a private interview room," Victor told him. "No two way mirrors, no recording devices of any kind."

The warden gaped at him. Victor smiled blandly. "Like I said, it's classified."

The warden glared at him for a moment before realizing that Victor wasn't at all affected by it. "It will take a while to set that up. The interview rooms are built for security, not privacy," Warden Worth snapped.

Victor shrugged. "Do whatever you need to do. Just so you're aware, if for any reason we suspect that someone has...overstepped their boundaries and listened in on this interview, and then foolishly decides to pass along or use whatever classified information they overhear, then they will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the homeland security laws currently still in place."

The warden turned beet red and it took considerable restraint for Victor not to laugh in his self important face. Without saying another word the warden stalked off to fulfill Victor's requests. Only when the warden was out of hearing range did he allow himself the luxury of a small chuckle.

Lissa wanted to click her heels and jump for joy. She had just been given the clear to get out if bed on her own. Of course, she wasn't going to be running any marathons. She wwas only supposed to take small walks up and down the hallway, but she was allowed to sit at the desk in her room now, which meant she might finally make some actaul progress in getting her store running again. Victor was going to be thrilled when he got back. Being allowed out of bed meant she was a step closer to being allowed to go home. She knew Victor appreciated the security SHIELD offered her when he wasn't able to be there protecting her himself, but he hated it a little too. While there was safety here, for her at least, there was something altogether different for Victor. Prying eyes and judgemental looks. Snide comments when people didn't realize his sensitive hearing would pick it up. He didn't care so much for himself, but if anyone looked cross-eyed at her the results were unpleasant to say the least. And when Victor had overheard one of the SHIELD agents talking about her? She winced. It hadn't been pretty. The agent was still alive, but it would be a long time before he was able to talk smack about anyone again. His jaw was broken and several of his teeth were missing. She felt badly about it, but oddly enough didn't really feel responsible.

So here she was, at loose ends, and mildly disappointed because the one person she wanted to share her tiny personal victory with wasn't here. She was a little disgusted with herself, actually. What was she, some damsel waiting in a tower for her true love? Besides, she and Victor would celebrate when he got back. She smiled as she remembered how they celebrated the last milestone in her recovery. He had brought her a giant cupcake and told her "Happy No-Catheter Day!" His expression had been so open and almost child like when he had given it to her. It had been perfect. She was certain that the only people who ever saw this side of Victor were her and Sean. She hadn't met Sean yet. Victor said it was because they were both waiting for her to be recovered a little more. When she had asked what being recovered had to do with meeting Sean, Victor had said something about Sean being unable to turn off her inner therapist.

A soft double knock sounded on her door. She turned her head to see an attractive older woman who had deep chestnut hair and prominant laugh lines. She felt fairly certain that she wasn't a doctor as she wasn't wearing scrubs.

"Hello," Lissa said.

"Hi, Lissa. I'm Victor's friend Sean. Can I come in?"

Lissa's eyes widened and she grinned. Well, speak of the devil! "Of course," she replied, motioning Sean in. Sean grinned back and Lissa realized her afternoon was about to get much more interesting.

Victor sat in the uncomfortable chair without squirming in discomfort. To the two prison guards who were manning the door, and of course watching him, he seemed relaxed and comfortable,as if he had all the time in the world. None of his impatience or anger that was beginning to simmer just under the surface sowed on his face or in his body language. He knew this game. He knew it well. Petty men with just enough power to try and make someone else miserable played it all the time. What the warden didn't realize was that Victor Creed owned this game. Whatever happened here today, Victor was walking out the winner. SHIELD was going to investigate the prison and the warden because Victor was going to recommend it in his lengthy report. Some of his report was going to exaggerate, but the result would be that SHIELD would be concerned enough to at least insist upon an internal affairs investigation. Who knew what kind of dust that would kick up? He knew one thing, the warden was in for months of misery. A few hours sitting in an uncomfortable chair? Yeah. More than worth it. He smiled and his smile only grew wider when he saw one of the guards swallow nervously in response.

A/N: There is more coming soon, this just seemed like a good stopping point.


	17. Chapter 17

Author's note:

So here is the deal people: I have definite plans to continue this story, but I have a couple of things hindering me. The first is that I had to replace my hard drive on my computer because it took a complete crap, and lost three chapters of this story, which now need to be completely rewritten. It is slow going because while I did have some handwritten chapter notes, I put everything on the computer and like a moron, did not back anything up. The second is that I am currently about seven and a half months pregnant, trying to get everything ready for a new baby while taking care of a two year old, a six year old and my husband , and working at my outside of the home job, which unfortunately means I don't have a ton of free time.

I swear I am working on the re-write, it is just very slow going because I have so much planned for Victor and Lissa, and all the plot twists I had planned need to be redone as well. I am glad that people enjoyed this story and are still reading it and I promise it will be updated soon.

Don't give up on me or the story guys, I promise to make it worth your while. ;)

Thanks for reading and reviewing and motivating me to re-do and continue!


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